The  Explorer 


MRS.  CROWLEY 


The  Explorer 


By 

William  Somerset  Maugham 


NEW  YORK 

THE  BAKER  &  TAYLOR  CO. 
1909 


COPYRIGHT,  1907,  BY 
WILLIAM  HEINEMANN 


COPYRIGHT,  1909,  BY 
THE  BAKER  &  TAYLOR  COMPANY 


First  Edition,  January,  1909 
Second  Edition,  February,  1909 


THE  PREMIER   PRESi,  I»EW  YOKE,  D.  S.  A. 


So 
My  Dear  Mrs.  G.  W.  Steevens 


2037799 


THE  sea  was  very  calm.  There  was  no  ship  in  sight, 
and  the  sea-gulls  were  motionless  upon  its  even  grey- 
ness.  They  sky  was  dark  with  lowering  clouds,  but 
there  was  no  wind.  The  line  of  the  horizon  was  clear 
and  delicate.  The  shingly  beach,  no  less  deserted, 
was  thick  with  tangled  seaweed,  and  the  innumerable 
shells  crumbled  under  the  feet  that  trod  them.  The 
breakwaters,  which  sought  to  prevent  the  unceasing  en- 
croachment of  the  waves,  were  rotten  with  age  and 
green  with  the  sea-slime.  It  was  a  desolate  scene,  but 
there  was  a  restfulness  in  its  melancholy;  and  the 
great  silence,  the  suave  monotony  of  colour,  might 
have  given  peace  to  a  heart  that  was  troubled.  They 
could  not  assuage  the  torment  of  the  woman  who  stood 
alone  upon  that  spot.  She  did  not  stir;  and,  though 
her  gaze  was  steadfast,  she  saw  nothing.  Nature  has 
neither  love  nor  hate,  and  with  indifference  smiles  upon 
the  light  at  heart  and  to  the  heavy  brings  a  deeper 
sorrow.  It  is  a  great  irony  that  the  old  Greek,  so 
wise  and  prudent,  who  fancied  that  the  gods  lived 
utterly  apart  from  human  passions,  divinely  uncon- 
scious in  their  high  palaces  of  the  grief  and  joy,  the 
hope  and  despair,  of  the  turbulent  crowd  of  men, 
should  have  gone  down  to  posterity  as  the  apostle  of 
brutish  pleasure. 


8  THE    EXPLORER 

But  the  silent  woman  did  not  look  for  solace.  She 
had  a  vehement  pride  which  caused  her  to  seek  com- 
fort only  in  her  own  heart;  and  when,  against  her 
will,  heavy  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks,  she  shook 
her  head  impatiently.  She  drew  a  long  breath  and  set 
herself  resolutely  to  change  her  thoughts. 

But  they  were  too  compelling,  and  she  could  not  drive 
from  her  mind  the  memories  that  absorbed  it.  Her 
fancy,  like  a  homing  bird,  hovered  with  light  wings 
about  another  coast;  and  the  sea  she  looked  upon  re- 
minded her  of  another  sea.  The  Solent.  From  her 
earliest  years  that  sheet  of  water  had  seemed  an  essen- 
tial part  of  her  life,  and  the  calmness  at  her  feet 
brought  back  to  her  irresistibly  the  scenes  she  knew 
§o  well.  But  the  rippling  waves  washed  the  shores  of 
Hampshire  with  a  persuasive  charm  that  they  had  not 
elsewhere,  and  the  broad  expanse  of  it,  lacking  the  il- 
limitable majesty  of  the  open  sea,  could  be  loved  like 
a  familiar  thing.  Yet  there  was  in  it,  too,  something 
of  the  salt  freshness  of  the  ocean,  and,  as  the  eye  fol- 
lowed its  course,  the  heart  could  exult  with  a  sense  of 
freedom.  Sometimes,  in  the  dusk  of  a  winter  after- 
noon, she  remembered  the  Solent  as  desolate  as  the 
Kentish  sea  before  her;  but  her  imagination  pre- 
sented it  to  her  more  often  with  the  ships,  out- 
ward bound  or  homeward  bound,  that  passed  con- 
tinually. She  loved  them  all.  She  loved  the  great 
liners  that  sped  across  the  ocean,  unmindful  of 
wind  or  weather,  with  their  freight  of  passengers; 
and  at  night,  when  she  recognised  them  only  by 
the  long  row  of  lights,  they  fascinated  her  by  the 
mystery  of  their  thousand  souls  going  out  strangely 
into  the  unknown.  She  loved  the  little  panting  ferries 


THE    EXPLORER  9 

that  carried  the  good  folk  of  the  neighbourhood  across 
the  water  to  buy  their  goods  in  Southampton,  or  to 
sell  the  produce  of  their  farms;  she  was  intimate  with 
their  sturdy  skippers,  and  she  delighted  in  their  airs 
of  self-importance.  She  loved  the  fishing  boats  that 
went  out  in  all  weathers,  and  the  neat  yachts  that  fled 
across  the  bay  with  such  a  dainty  grace.  She  loved 
the  great  barques  and  the  brigantines  that  came  in 
with  a  majestic  ease,  all  their  sails  set  to  catch  the 
remainder  of  the  breeze;  they  were  like  wonderful, 
stately  birds,  and  her  soul  rejoiced  at  the  sight  of  them. 
But  best  of  all  she  loved  the  tramps  that  plodded  with 
a  faithful,  grim  tenacity  from  port  to  port;  often 
they  were  squat  and  ugly,  battered  by  the  tempest, 
dingy  and  ill-painted;  but  her  heart  went  out  to 
them.  They  touched  her  because  their  fate  seemed  so 
inglorious.  No  skipper,  new  to  his  craft,  could  ever 
admire  the  beauty  of  their  lines,  nor  look  up  at  the 
swelling  canvas  and  exult  he  knew  not  why;  no  pas- 
sengers would  boast  of  their  speed  or  praise  their  ele- 
gance. They  were  honest  merchantmen,  laborious, 
trustworthy,  and  of  good  courage,  who  took  foul 
weather  and  peril  in  the  day's  journey  and  made  no 
outcry.  And  with  a  sure  instinct  she  saw  the  romance 
in  the  humble  course  of  their  existence  and  the  beauty 
of  an  unboasting  performance  of  their  duty;  and 
often,  as  she  watched  them,  her  fancy  glowed  with  the 
thought  of  the  varied  merchandise  they  carried,  and 
their  long  sojourning  in  foreign  parts.  There  was  a 
subtle  charm  in  them  because  they  went  to  Southern 
seas  and  white  cities  with  tortuous  streets,  silent  under 
the  blue  sky. 

Striving  still  to  free  herself  of  a  passionate  regret, 


10  THE    EXPLORER 

the  lonely  woman  turned  away  and  took  a  path 
that  led  across  the  marshes.  But  her  heart  sank,  for 
she  seemed  to  recognise  the  flats,  the  shallow  dykes, 
the  coastguard  station,  which  she  had  known  all  her 
life.  Sheep  were  grazing  here  and  there,  and  two 
horses,  put  out  to  grass,  looked  at  her  listlessly  as  she 
passed.  A  cow  heavily  whisked  its  tail.  To  the  in- 
different, that  line  of  Kentish  coast,  so  level  and 
monotonous,  might  be  merely  dull,  but  to  her  it  was 
beautiful.  It  reminded  her  of  the  home  she  would 
never  see  again. 

And  then  her  thoughts,  which  had  wandered  around 
the  house  in  which  she  was  born,  ever  touching  the 
fringe  as  it  were,  but  never  quite  settling  with  the 
full  surrender  of  attention,  gave  themselves  over  to  it 
entirely. 

Hamlyn's  Purlieu  had  belonged  to  the  Allertons  for 
three  hundred  years,  and  the  recumbent  effigy,  in  stone, 
of  the  founder  of  the  family's  fortunes,  with  his  two 
wives  in  ruffs  and  stiff  martingales,  was  to  be  seen  in 
the  chancel  of  the  parish  church.  It  was  the  work  of 
an  Italian  sculptor,  lured  to  England  in  company  of 
the  craftsmen  who  made  the  lady-chapel  of  Westmin- 
ster Abbey;  and  the  renaissance  delicacy  of  its  work 
was  very  grateful  in  the  homely  English  church.  And 
for  three  hundred  years  the  Allertons  had  been  men 
of  prudence,  courage,  and  worth,  so  that  the  walls  of 
the  church  by  now  were  filled  with  the  lists  of  their  vir- 
tues and  their  achievements.  They  had  intermarried 
with  the  great  families  of  the  neighbourhood,  and  with 
the  help  of  these  marble  tablets  you  might  have  made 
out  a  roll  of  all  that  was  distinguished  in  Hampshire, 


THE    EXPLORER  11 

The  Maddens  of  Brise,  the  Fletchers  of  Horton  Park, 
the  Daunceys  of  Maiden  Hall,  the  Garrods  of  Penda, 
had  all,  in  the  course  of  time,  given  daughters  to  the  Al- 
lertons  of  Hamlyn's  Purlieu;  and  the  Allertons  of 
Hamlyn's  Purlieu  had  given  in  exchange  richly  dow- 
ered maidens  to  the  Garrods  of  Penda,  the  Daunceys 
of  Maiden  Hall,  the  Fletchers  of  Horton  Park,  and  the 
Maddens  of  Brise. 

And  with  each  generation  the  Allertons  grew  prouder. 
The  peculiar  situation  of  their  lands  distinguished 
them  a  little  from  their  neighbours;  for,  whereas  the 
Garrods,  the  Daunceys,  and  the  Fletchers  lived  within 
walking  distance  of  each  other,  and  Madden  of  Brise, 
because  of  his  rank  and  opulence  the  most  distinguished 
person  in  the  county,  within  six  or  seven  miles,  Ham- 
lyn's Purlieu  was  near  the  sea  and  separated  by  forest 
land  from  other  places.  The  seclusion  in  which  its 
owners  were  thus  forced  to  dwell  differentiated  their 
characters  from  those  of  the  neighbouring  gentlemen. 
They  found  much  cause  for  self-esteem  in  the  number 
of  their  acres,  and,  though  many  of  these  consisted  of 
salt  marshes,  and  more  of  wild  heath,  others  were  as 
good  as  any  in  Hampshire;  and  the  grand  total  made  a 
formidable  array  in  works  of  reference.  But  they 
found  greater  reason  still  for  self-congratulation  in 
their  culture.  No  pride  is  so  great  as  the  pride  of 
intellect,  and  the  Allertons  never  doubted  that  their 
neighbours  were  boors  beside  them.  Whether  it  was 
due  to  the  peculiar  lie  of  the  land  on  which  they  were 
born  and  bred,  that  led  them  to  introspection,  or 
whether  it  was  due  to  some  accident  of  inheritance, 
the  Allertons  had  all  an  interest  in  the  things  of  the 
mind  which  had  never  troubled  the  Fletchers  or  the 


13  THE    EXPLORER 

Garrods  of  Penda,  the  Daunceys  or  my  lords  Madden 
of  Brise.  They  were  as  good  sportsmen  as  the  others, 
and  hunted  or  shot  with  the  best  of  them,  but  they 
read  books  as  well,  and  had  a  subtlety  of  intelligence 
which  was  no  less  unexpected  than  pleasing.  The  fat 
squires  of  the  county  looked  up  to  them  as  miracles 
of  learning,  and  congratulated  themselves  over  their 
port  on  possessing  in  their  midst  persons  who  com- 
bined, in  such  excellent  proportions,  gentle  birth  and 
a  good  seat  in  the  saddle  with  adequate  means  and 
an  encyclopedic  knowledge.  Everything  conspired  to 
give  the  Allertons  a  good  opinion  of  themselves.  They 
not  only  looked  down  from  superior  heights  on  the 
persons  with  whom  they  habitually  came  in  contact 
— that  is  common  enough — but  these  very  persons  with- 
out question  looked  up  to  them. 

The  Allertons  made  the  grand  tour  in  a  style  be- 
fitting their  dignity;  and  the  letters  which  each  son 
of  the  house  wrote  in  turn,  describing  Paris,  Vienna, 
Dresden,  Munich,  and  Rome,  with  the  persons  of  con- 
sequence who  entertained  him,  were  preserved  with 
scrupulous  care  among  the  family  papers.  They  tes- 
tified to  an  agreeable  interest  in  the  arts;  and  each 
of  them  had  made  a  point  of  bringing  back  with  him, 
according  to  the  fashion  of  his  day,  beautiful  things 
which  he  had  purchased  on  his  journey.  Hamlyn's 
Purlieu,  a  fine  stone  house  goodly  to  look  upon,  was 
thus  filled  with  Italian  pictures,  French  cabinets  of 
delicate  workmanship,  bronzes  of  all  kinds,  tapestries, 
and  old  Eastern  carpets.  The  gardens  had  been  tended 
with  a  loving  care,  and  there  grew  in  them  trees 
and  flowers  which  were  unknown  to  other  parts  of  Eng- 
land. Each  Allerton  in  his  time  cherished  the  place 


THE    EXPLORER  13 

with  a  passionate  pride,  looking  upon  it  as  his  great- 
est privilege  that  he  could  add  a  little  to  its  beauty 
and  hand  on  to  his  successor  a  more  magnificent  her- 
itage. 

But  at  length  Hamlyn's  Purlieu  came  into  the  hands 
of  Fred  Allerton;  and  the  gods,  blind  for  so  long  to 
the  prosperity  of  this  house,  determined  now,  it  seemed, 
to  wreak  their  malice.  Fred  Allerton  had  many  of  the 
characteristics  of  his  race,  but  in  him  they  took  a  sud- 
den turn  which  bore  him  swiftly  to  destruction.  They 
had  been  marked  always  by  good  looks,  a  persuasive 
manner,  and  a  singular  liberality  of  mind;  and  he  was 
perhaps  the  handsomest,  and  certainly  the  most  charm- 
ing of  them  all.  But  the  freedom  from  prejudice  which 
had  prevented  the  others  from  giving  way  too  much  to 
their  pride  had  in  him  degenerated  into  a  singular 
unscrupulousness.  His  parents  died  when  he  was 
twenty,  and  a  year  later  he  found  himself  master 
of  a  great  estate.  The  times  were  hard  then  for 
those  who  depended  upion-4beir  land,  and  Fred  Al- 
lerton was  not  so  rich  as  his  forebears.  But  he  flung 
himself  extravagantly  into  the  pursuit  of  pleasure.  He 
was  the  only  member  of  his  family  who  had  failed  to 
reside  habitually  at  Hamlyn's  Purlieu.  He  seemed  to 
take  no  interest  in  it,  and  except  now  and  then  to  shoot, 
never  came  near  his  native  county.  He  lived  much  in 
Paris,  which  in  the  early  years  of  the  third  republic 
had  still  something  of  the  wanton  gaiety  of  the  Empire ; 
and  here  he  soon  grew  notorious  for  his  prodigality  and 
his  adventures.  He  was  an  unlucky  man,  and  everything 
he  did  led  to  disaster.  But  this  never  impaired  his 
cheerfulness.  He  boasted  that  he  had  lost  money  in 


14  THE   EXPLORER 

every  gambling  hell  in  Europe,  and  vowed  that  he 
would  give  up  racing  in  disgust  if  ever  a  horse  of  his 
won  a  race.  His  charm  of  manner  was  irresistible,  and 
no  one  had  more  friends  than  he.  His  generosity  was 
great,  and  he  was  willing  to  lend  money  to  everyone 
who  asked.  But  it  is  even  more  expensive  to  be  a  man 
whom  everyone  likes  than  to  keep  a  stud,  and  Fred  Al- 
lerton  found  himself  in  due  course  much  in  need  of 
ready  money.  He  did  not  hesitate  to  mortgage  his 
lands,  and  till  he  came  to  the  end  of  these  resources 
also,  continued  gaily  to  lead  a  life  of  splendour. 

At  length  he  had  raised  on  Hamlyn's  Purlieu  every 
penny  that  he  could,  and  was  crippled  with  debt  be- 
sides; but  he  still  rode  a  fine  horse,  lived  in  expensive 
chambers,  dressed  better  than  any  man  in  London,  and 
gave  admirable  dinners  to  all  and  sundry.  He  realised 
then  that  he  could  only  retrieve  his  fortunes  by  a  rich 
marriage.  Fred  Allerton  was  still  a  handsome  man, 
and  he  knew  from  long  experience  how  easy  it  was  to 
say  pleasant  things  to  a  woman.  There  was  a  peculiar 
light  in  his  blue  eyes  which  persuaded  everyone  of  the 
goodness  of  his  heart.  He  was  amusing  and  full  of 
spirits.  He  fixed  upon  a  Miss  Boulger,  one  of  the  two 
daughters  of  a  Liverpool  manufacturer,  and  succeeded 
after  a  surprisingly  short  time  in  assuring  her  of  his 
passion.  There  was  a  convincing  air  of  truth  in  all  he 
said,  and  she  returned  his  flame  with  readiness.  It  was 
clear  to  him  that  her  sister  was  equally  prepared  to  fall 
in  love  with  him,  and  he  regretted  with  diverting  frank- 
ness to  his  more  intimate  friends  that  the  laws  of  the 
land  prevented  him  from  marrying  them  both  and  ac- 
quiring two  fortunes  instead  of  one.  He  married  the 
younger  Miss  Boulger,  and  on  her  dowry  paid  off  the 


THE    EXPLORER  15 

mortgages  on  Hamlyn's  Purlieu,  his  own  debts,  and 
succeeded  for  several  years  in  having  an  excellent  time. 
The  poor  woman,  happily  blind  to  his  defects,  adored 
him  with  all  her  soul.  She  trusted  him  entirely  with 
the  management  of  her  money  and  only  regretted  that 
the  affairs  connected  with  it  kept  him  so  much  in  town. 
With  marriage  and  his  new  connection  with  commerce 
Fred  Allerton  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had 
business  abilities,  and  he  occupied  himself  thencefor- 
ward with  all  manner  of  financial  schemes.  With  un- 
wearied enthusiasm  he  entered  upon  some  new  affair 
which  was  going  to  bring  him  untold  wealth  as  soon 
as  the  last  had  finally  sunk  into  the  abyss  of  bank- 
ruptcy. Hamlyn's  Purlieu  had  never  known  such 
gaieties  as  during  the  fifteen  years  of  Mrs.  Allerton's 
married  life.  All  kinds  of  people  were  brought  down 
by  Fred  ;  and  the  dignified  dining-room,  which  for  cen- 
turies had  witnessed  discussions,  learned  or  flippant, 
on  the  merits  of  Greek  and  Latin  authors,  or  the  ex- 
cellencies of  Italian  masters,  now  heard  strange  talk 
of  stocks  and  shares,  companies,  syndicates,  options  and 
holdings.  When  Mrs.  Allerton  olied  suddenly  she  was 
entirely  unconscious  that  her  husband  had  squandered 
every  penny  of  the  money  which  had  been  settled  on  her 
children,  had  mortgaged  once  more  the  broad  fields  of 
his  ancestors,  and  was  head  over  ears  in  debt.  She  ex- 
pired with  his  name  upon  her  lips,  and  blessed  the  day 
on  which  she  had  first  seen  him.  She  had  one  son  and 
one  daughter.  Lucy  was  a  girl  of  fifteen  when  her 
mother  died,  and  George,  the  boy,  was  ten. 

It  was  Lucy,  now  a  woman  of  twenty-five,  who  turned 
her  back  upon  the  Kentish  sea  and  slowly  walked  across 
the  marsh.  And  as  she  walked,  the  recollection  of  the 


16  THE    EXPLORER 

ten  years  that  had  passed  since  then  was  placed  be- 
fore her  as  it  were  in  a  single  flash. 

At  first  her  father  had  seemed  the  most  wonderful 
being  in  the  world,  and  she  had  worshipped  him  with 
all  her  childish  heart.  The  love  that  bound  her  to  her 
mother  was  pale  in  comparison,  for  Lucy  could  not 
divide  her  affections,  giving  part  here,  part  there;  her 
father,  with  his  wonderful  gift  of  sympathy,  his  inde- 
scribable charm,  conquered  her  entirely.  It  was  her 
greatest  delight  to  be  with  him.  She  was  entertained 
and  exhilarated  by  his  society,  and  she  hated  the  men 
of  business  who  absorbed  so  much  of  his  time. 

When  Mrs.  Allerton  died  George  was  sent  to  school, 
but  Lucy,  in  charge  of  a  governess,  remained  year  in, 
year  out,  at  Hamlyn's  Purlieu  with  her  books,  her  dogs, 
and  her  horses.  And  gradually,  she  knew  not  how,  it 
was  borne  in  upon  her  that  the  father  who  had  seemed 
such  a  paragon  of  chivalry,  was  weak,  unreliable,  and 
shifty.  She  fought  against  the  suspicions  that  poisoned 
her  mind,  charging  herself  bitterly  with  meanness  of 
spirit,  but  one  small  incident  after  another  brought 
the  truth  home  to  her.  She  recognised  with  a  shiver 
of  anguish  that  his  standard  of  veracity  was  utterly  dif- 
ferent from  hers.  He  was  not  very  careful  to  keep  his 
word.  He  was  not  scrupulous  in  money  matters.  With 
her,  honesty,  truthfulness,  exactness  in  all  affairs,  were 
not  only  instinctive,  but  deliberate;  for  the  pride  of  her 
birth  was  so  great  that  she  felt  it  incumbent  upon  her 
to  be  ten  times  more  careful  in  these  things  than  the 
ordinary  run  of  men. 

And  then,  from  a  word  here  and  a  word  there,  by 
horrified  guesses  and  by  a  kind  of  instinctive  surmise, 
she  realised  presently  the  whole  truth  of  her  father's 


THE    EXPLORER  17 

life.  She  found  out  that  Hamlyn's  Purlieu  was  mort- 
gaged for  every  penny  it  was  worth,  she  found  out  that 
there  was  a  bill  of  sale  on  the  furniture,  that  money 
had  been  raised  on  the  pictures;  and,  at  last,  that  her 
mother's  money,  left  in  her  father's  trust  to  her  and 
George,  had  been  spent.  And  still  Fred  Allerton  lived 
with  prodigal  magnificence. 

It  was  only  very  gradually  that  Lucy  discovered 
these  things.  There  was  no  one  whom  she  could  con- 
sult, and  she  had  to  devise  some  mode  of  conduct  by 
herself.  It  was  all  a  matter  of  supposition,  and  she 
knew  almost  nothing  for  certain.  She  made  up  her 
mind  that  she  would  probe  no  deeper.  But  since  such 
knowledge  as  she  had  came  to  her  only  by  degrees,  she 
was  able  the  better  to  adapt  her  behaviour  to  it.  The 
pride  which  for  so  long  had  been  a  characteristic  of 
the  Allertons,  but  had  unaccountably  missed  Fred,  in 
her  enjoyed  all  its  force;  and  what  she  knew  now  served 
only  to  augment  it.  In  the  ruin  of  her  ideals  she  had 
nothing  but  that  to  cling  to,  and  she  cherished  it  with 
an  unreasoning  passion.  She  had  a  cult  for  the  ances- 
tors whose  portraits  looked  down  upon  her  in  one  room 
after  another  of  Hamlyn's  Purlieu,  and  from  their 
names  and  the  look  of  them,  which  was  all  that  re- 
mained, she  made  them  in  her  fancy  into  personalities 
whose  influence  might  somehow  counteract  the  weak- 
ness of  her  father.  In  them  there  was  so  much  up* 
Tightness,  strength,  and  simple  goodness;  the  sum  total 
of  it  must  prevail  in  the  long  run  against  the  unruly  in- 
stincts of  one  man.  And  she  loved  her  old  home,  with 
all  its  exquisite  contents,  with  its  rich  gardens,  its 
broad,  fertile  fields,  above  all  with  its  wild  heath 
and  flat  sea-marshes,  she  loved  it  with  a  hungry 

2 


18  THE   EXPLORER 

devotion,  saddened  and  yet  more  vehement  because 
her  hold  on  it  was  jeopardised.  She  set  the  whole 
strength  of  her  will  on  preserving  the  place  for  her 
brother.  Her  greatest  desire  was  to  fill  him  with  the 
determination  to  reclaim  it  from  the  foreign  hands 
that  had  some  hold  upon  it,  and  to  restore  it  to  its 
ancient  freedom. 

Upon  George  were  set  all  Lucy's  hopes.  He  could  re- 
store the  fallen  fortunes  of  their  race,  and  her  part 
must  be  to  train  him  to  the  glorious  task.  He  was 
growing  up,  and  she  made  up  her  mind  to  keep  from 
him  all  knowledge  of  her  father's  weakness.  To  George 
he  must  seem  to  the  last  an  honest  gentleman. 

Lucy  transferred  to  her  brother  all  the  love  which 
she  had  lavished  on  her  father.  She  watched  'his 
growth  fondly,  interesting  herself  in  his  affairs,  and 
seeking  to  be  to  him  not  only  a  sister,  but  the  mother 
he  had  lost  and  the  father  who  was  unworthy.  When 
he  was  of  a  fit  age  she  saw  that  he  was  sent  to  Win- 
chester. She  followed  his  career  with  passion  and  en- 
tered eagerly  into  all  his  interests. 

But  if  Lucy  had  lost  her  old  love  for  her  father,  its 
place  had  been  taken  by  a  pitying  tenderness;  and  she 
did  all  she  could  to  conceal  from  him  the  change  in  her 
feelings.  It  was  easy  when  she  was  with  him,  for  then 
It  was  impossible  to  resist  his  charm;  and  it  was  only 
afterwards,  when  he  was  no  longer  there  to  explain 
things  away,  that  she  could  not  crush  the  horror  and 
resentment  with  which  she  regarded  him.  But  of  this 
no  one  knew  anything;  and  she  set  herself  deliberately 
not  only  to  make  such  headway  as  she  could  in  the 
tangle  of  their  circumstances,  but  to  conceal  from 
everyone  the  actual  state  of  things. 


THE    EXPLORER  19 

For  presently  Fred  Allerton  seemed  no  longer  to 
have  an  inexhaustible  supply  of  ready  money,  and  Lucy 
had  to  resort  to  a  very  careful  economy.  She  re-* 
duced  expenses  in  every  way  she  could,  and  when  left 
alone  in  the  house,  lived  with  the  utmost  fru- 
gality. She  hated  to  ask  her  father  for  money,  and 
since  often  he  did  not  pay  the  allowance  that  was 
due  to  her,  she  was  obliged  to  exercise  a  good  deal  of 
self-denial.  As  soon  as  she  was  old  enough,  Lucy  had 
taken  the  household  affairs  into  her  own  hands  and 
had  learned  to  conduct  them  in  such  a  way  as  to  hide 
from  the  world  how  difficult  it  was  to  make  both  ends 
meet.  Now,  feeling  that  things  were  approaching  a 
crisis,  she  sold  the  horses  and  dismissed  most  of  the 
servants.  A  great  fear  seized  her  that  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  keep  Hamlyn's  Purlieu,  and  she  was  stricken 
with  panic.  She  was  willing  to  make  every  sacrifice 
but  that,  and  if  she  were  only  allowed  to  remain  there, 
did  not  care  how  penuriously  she  lived. 

But  the  struggle  was  growing  harder.  None  knew 
what  she  had  endured  in  her  endeavour  to  keep  their 
heads  above  water.  And  she  had  borne  everything  with 
perfect  cheerfulness.  Though  she  saw  a  good  deal  of 
the  neighbouring  gentry,  connected  with  her  by  blood 
or  long  friendship,  not  one  of  them  divined  her  great 
anxiety.  She  felt  vaguely  that  they  knew  how  things 
were  going,  but  she  held  her  head  high  and  gave  no 
one  an  opportunity  to  pity  her.  Her  father  was  now 
absent  from  home  more  frequently  and  seemed  to 
avoid  being  alone  with  her.  They  had  never  discussed 
the  state  of  their  affairs,  for  he  assumed  with  Lucy  a 
determined  flippancy  which  prevented  any  serious  con- 
versation. On  her  twenty-first  birthday  he  had  made 


20  THE    EXPLORER 

some  facetious  observation  about  the  money  of  which 
she  was  now  mistress,  but  had  treated  the  matter  with 
such  an  airy  charm  that  she  had  felt  unable  to  proceed 
with  it.  Nor  did  she  wish  to,  for  if  he  had  spent  her 
money  nothing  could  be  done,  and  it  was  better  not  to 
know  for  certain.  Notwithstanding  settlements  and 
wills,  she  felt  that  it  was  really  his  to  do  what  he  liked 
with,  and  she  made  up  her  mind  that  nothing  in  her 
behaviour  should  be  construed  as  a  reproach. 

At  length  the  crash  came. 

She  received  a  telegram  one  day — she  was  nearly 
twenty-three  then — from  Richard  Lomas,  an  old  friend 
of  her  mother's,  to  say  that  he  was  coming  down  for 
luncheon.  She  walked  to  the  station  to  meet  him. 
She  was  very  fond  of  him,  not  only  for  his  own  sake, 
but  because  her  mother  had  been  fond  of  him,  too ;  and 
the  affection  which  had  existed  between  them,  drew 
her  nearer  to  the  mother  whom  she  felt  now  she  had  a 
little  neglected.  Dick  Lomas  was  a  barrister,  who,  after 
contesting  two  seats  unsuccessfully,  had  got  into  Par- 
liament at  the  last  general  election  and  had  made  al- 
ready a  certain  name  for  himself  by  the  wittiness  of 
his  speeches  and  the  bluntness  of  his  common  sense. 
He  had  neither  the  portentous  gravity  nor  the  dogmatic 
airs  which  afflicted  most  of  his  legal  colleagues  in  the 
house.  He  was  a  man  who  had  solved  the  difficulty  of 
being  sensible  without  tediousness  and  pointed  without 
impertinence.  He  was  wise  enough  not  to  speak  too 
often,  and  if  only  he  had  not  possessed  a  sense  of 
humour — which  his  countrymen  always  regard  with 
suspicion  in  an  English  politician — he  might  have 
looked  forward  to  a  brilliant  future.  He  was  a  wiry 
little  man,  with  a  sharp,  good-humoured  face  and 


THE    EXPLORER  21 

sparkling  eyea.  He  carried  his  seven  and  thirty  years 
with  gaiety. 

But  on  this  occasion  he  was  unusually  grave.  Lucy, 
already  surprised  at  his  sudden  visit,  divined  at  once 
from  the  uneasiness  of  his  pleasant,  grey  eyes  that 
something  was  amiss.  Her  heart  began  to  beat  more 
quickly.  He  forced  himself  to  smile  as  he  took  her 
hand,  congratulating  her  on  the  healthiness  of  her  ap- 
pearance; and  they  walked  slowly  from  the  station. 
Dick  spoke  of  indifferent  things,  while  Luc}'  distract- 
edly turned  over  in  her  mind  all  that  could  have  hap- 
pened. Luncheon  was  ready  for  them,  and  Dick  sat 
down  with  apparent  gusto,  praising  emphatically  the 
good  things  she  set  before  him;  but  he  ate  as  little  as 
she  did.  He  seemed  impatient  for  the  meal  to  end,  but 
unwilling  to  enter  upon  the  subject  which  oppressed 
him.  They  drank  their  coffee. 

*  Shall  we  go  for  a  turn  in  the  garden  ? '  he  sug- 


'  Certainly/ 

After  his  last  visit,  Dick  had  sent  down  an  old  sun- 
dial which  he  had  picked  up  in  a  shop  in  Westminster, 
and  Lucy  took  him  to  the  place  which  they  had  before 
decided  needed  just  such  an  ornament.  They  discussed 
it  at  some  length,  but  then  silence  fell  suddenly  upon 
them,  and  they  walked  side  by  side  without  a  word. 
Dick  slipped  his  arm  through  hers  with  a  caressing  mo- 
tion, and  Lucy,  unused  to  any  tenderness,  felt  a  sob 
rise  to  her  throat.  They  went  in  once  more  and  stood 
in  the  drawing-room.  From  the  walls  looked  down 
the  treasures  of  the  house.  There  was  a  portrait  by 
Eeynolds,  and  another  by  Hoppner,  and  there  was  a 
beautiful  picture  of  the  Grand  Canal  by  Guardi,  and 


22  THE    EXPLORER 

there  was  a  portrait  by  Goya  of  a  General  Allerton  who 
had  fought  in  the  Peninsular  War.  Dick  gave  them  a 
glance,  and  his  blood  tingled  with  admiration.  He 
leaned  against  the  fireplace. 

'  Your  father  asked  me  to  come  down  and  see  you, 
Lucy.  He  was  too  worried  to  come  himself.' 

Lucy  looked  at  him  with  grave  eyes,  but  made  no 
reply. 

'  He's  had  some  very  bad  luck  lately.  Your  father 
is  a  man  who  prides  himself  on  his  business  ability,  but 
he  has  no  more  knowledge  of  such  matters  than  a  child. 
He's  an  imaginative  man,  and  when  some  scheme  ap- 
peals to  his  feeling  for  romance,  he  loses  all  sense  of 
proportion/ 

Dick  paused  again.  It  was  impossible  to  soften  the 
blow,  and  he  could  only  put  it  bluntly. 

'  He's  been  gambling  on  the  Stock  Exchange,  and 
he's  been  badly  let  down.  He  was  bulling  a  number  of 
South  American  railways,  and  there's  been  a  panic  in 
the  market.  He's  lost  enormously.  I  don't  know  if 
any  settlement  can  be  made  with  his  creditors,  but  if 
not  he  must  go  bankrupt.  In  any  case,  I'm  afraid  Ham- 
lyn's  Purlieu  must  be  sold.' 

Lucy  walked  to  the  window  and  looked  out.  But 
she  could  see  nothing.  Her  eyes  were  blurred  with 
tears.  She  breathed  quickly,  trying  to  control  herself. 

'  I've  been  expecting  it  for  a  long  time,'  she  said  at 
last.  '  I've  refused  to  face  it,  and  I  put  the  thought 
away  from  me,  but  I  knew  really  that  it  must  come  to 
that/ 

'  I'm  very  sorry/  said  Dick  helplessly. 

She  turned  on  him  fiercely,  and  the  colour  rose  to 
her  cheeks.  But  she  restrained  herself  and  left  unsaid 


THE    EXPLORER  23 

the  bitter  words  that  had  come  to  her  tongue.  She 
made  a  pitiful  gesture  of  despair.  He  felt  how  poor 
were  his  words  of  consolation,  and  how  inadequate  to 
her  great  grief,  and  he  was  silent. 

'  And  what  about  George  ?  '  she  asked. 

George  was  then  eighteen,  and  on  the  point  of  leav- 
ing Winchester.  It  had  been  arranged  that  he  should 
go  to  Oxford  at  the  beginning  of  the  next  term. 

'  Lady  Kelsey  has  offered  to  pay  his  expenses  at  the 
'Varsity/  answered  Dick,  '  and  she  wants  you  to  go 
and  stay  with  her  for  the  present.' 

'  Do  you  mean  to  say  we're  penniless  ? '  asked  Lucy, 
desperately. 

'  I  think  you  cannot  depend  on  your  father  for  much 
regular  assistance.' 

Lucy  was  silent  again. 

Lady  Kelsey  was  the  elder  sister  of  Mrs.  Allerton, 
and  some  time  after  that  lady's  marriage  had  accepted 
a  worthy  merchant  whose  father  had  been  in  partner- 
ship with  hers;  and  he,  after  a  prosperous  career 
crowned  by  surrendering  his  seat  in  Parliament  to  a 
defeated  cabinet-minister — a  patriotic  act  for  which 
he  was  rewarded  with  a  knighthood — had  died, 
leaving  her  well  off  and  childless.  She  had  but  one 
other  nephew,  Eobert  Boulger,  her  brother's  only  son, 
but  he  was  rich  with  all  the  inherited  wealth  of  the 
firm  of  Boulger  &  Kelsey;  and  her  affections  were 
placed  chiefly  upon  the  children  of  the  man  whom  she 
had  loved  devotedly  and  who  had  married  her  sister. 

e  I  was  hoping  you  would  come  up  to  town  with  me 
now/  said  Dick.  '  Lady  Kelsey  is  expecting  you,  and 
I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  you  by  yourself  here/ 

'  I  shall  stay  till  the  last  moment/ 


24.  THE   EXPLORER 

Dick  hesitated  again.  He  had  wished  to  keep  back 
the  full  brutality  of  the  blow,  but  sooner  or  later  it 
must  be  given. 

'  The  place  is  already  sold.  Your  father  accepted 
an  offer  from  Jarrett — you  remember  him,,  he  has  been 
down  here;  he  is  your  father's  broker  and  chief  credi- 
tor— and  everything  else  is  to  go  to  Christy's  at  once.' 

'  Then  there  is  no  more  to  be  said/ 

She  gave  Dick  her  hand. 

'  You  won't  mind  if  I  don't  come  to  the  station  with 
you?' 

*  Won't  you  come  up  to  London  ?  '  he  asked  again. 
She  shook  her  head. 

*  I  want  to  be  alone.    Forgive  me  if  I  make  you  go 
eo  abruptly.' 

'  My  dear  girl,  it's  very  good  of  you  to  make  sure  that 
I  don't  miss  my  train,'  he  smiled  drily. 
'  Good-bye  and  thank  you/ 


II 


WHILE  Lucy  wandered  by  the  seashore,  occupied  with 
painful  memories,  her  old  friend  Dick,  too  lazy  to  walk 
with  her,  eat  in  the  drawing-room  of  Court  Leys,  talk- 
ing to  his  hostess. 

Mrs.  Crowley  was  an  American  woman,  who  had 
married  an  Englishman,  and  on  being  left  a  widow,  had 
continued  to  live  in  England.  She  was  a  person  who 
thoroughly  enjoyed  life;  and  indeed  there  was  every 
reason  that  she  should  do  so,  since  she  was  young,  pretty, 
and  rich;  she  had  a  quick  mind  and  an  alert  tongue. 
She  was  of  diminutive  size,  so  small  that  Dick  Lomas, 
by  no  means  a  tall  man,  felt  quite  large  by  the  side  of 
her.  Her  figure  was  exquisite,  and  she  had  the  smallest 
hands  in  the  world.  Her  features  were  so  good,  regular 
and  well-formed,  her  complexion  so  perfect,  her  agile 
grace  so  enchanting,  that  she  did  not  seem  a  real  per- 
son at  all.  She  was  too  delicate  for  the  hurly-burly  of 
life,  and  it  seemed  improbable  that  she  could  be  made 
of  the  ordinary  clay  from  which  human  beings  are 
manufactured.  She  had  the  artificial  grace  of  those 
dainty,  exquisite  ladies  in  the  Embarquement  pour 
Cithere  of  the  charming  Watteau ;  and  you  felt  that  she 
was  fit  to  saunter  on  that  sunny  strand,  habited  in  satin 
of  delicate  colours,  with  a  witty,  decadent  cavalier  by 
her  side.  It  was  preposterous  to  talk  to  her  of  serious 
things,  and  nothing  but  an  airy  badinage  seemed  pos- 
sible in  her  company. 

Mrs.  Crowley  had  asked  Lucy  and  Dick  Lomas  to 

it 


26  THE    EXPLORER 

stay  with  her  in  the  house  she  had  just  taken  for  a 
term  of  years.  She  had  spent  a  week  by  herself  to 
arrange  things  to  her  liking,  and  insisted  that  Dick 
should  admire  all  she  had  done.  After  a  walk  round 
the  park  he  vowed  that  he  was  exhausted  and  must  rest 
till  tea-time. 

'  Now  tell  me  what  made  you  take  it.  It's  so  far  from 
anywhere/ 

' I  met  the  owner  in  Rome  last  winter.  It  belongs 
to  a  Mrs.  Craddock,  and  when  I  told  her  I  was  looking 
out  for  a  house,  she  suggested  that  I  should  come  and 
see  this/ 

'  Why  doesn't  she  live  in  it  herself  ?  ' 

'  Oh,  I  don't  know.  It  appears  that  she  was  passion- 
ately devoted  to  her  husband,  and  he  broke  his  neck  in 
the  hunting-field,  so  she  couldn't  bear  to  live  here  any 
more/ 

Mrs.  Crowley  looked  round  the  drawing-room  with 
satisfaction.  At  first  it  had  borne  the  cheerless  look  of 
a  house  uninhabited,  but  she  had  quickly  made  it  pleas- 
ant with  flowers,  photographs,  and  silver  ornaments. 
The  Sheraton  furniture  and  the  chintzes  suited  the 
style  of  her  beauty.  She  felt  that  she  looked  in  place 
in  that  comfortable  room,  and  was  conscious  that  her 
frock  fitted  her  and  the  circumstances  perfectly.  Dick's 
eye  wandered  to  the  books  that  were  scattered  here  and 
there. 

'  And  have  you  put  out  these  portentous  works  in 
order  to  improve  your  mind,  or  with  the  laudable  de- 
sire of  impressing  me  with  the  serious  turn  of  your  in- 
tellect?* 

'  You  don't  think  I'm  such  a  perfect  fool  as  to  try 
and  impress  an  entirely  flippant  person  like  yourself?' 


THE    EXPLORER  27 

On  the  table  at  his  elbow  were  a  copy  of  the  Eevue  des 
Deux  Mondes  and  one  of  the  Fortnightly  Review.  He 
took  up  two  books,  and  saw  that  one  was  the  Frohliche 
Wissenschaft  of  Nietzsche,  who  was  then  beginning  to 
be  read  in  England  by  the  fashionable  world  and  was 
on  the  eve  of  being  discovered  by  men  of  letters,  while 
the  other  was  a  volume  of  Mrs.  Crowley's  compatriot, 
William  James. 

'  American  women  amaze  me,'  said  Dick,  as  he  put 
them  down.  '  They  buy  their  linen  at  Doucet's  and  read 
Herbert  Spencer  with  avidity.  And  what's  more,  they 
seem  to  like  him.  An  Englishwoman  can  seldom  read 
a  serious  book  without  feeling  a  prig,  and  as  soon  as 
she  feels  a  prig  she  leaves  off  her  corsets.' 

'  I  feel  vaguely  that  you're  paying  me  a  compliment,' 
returned  Mrs.  Crowley,  '  but  it's  so  elusive  that  I  can't 
quite  catch  it.' 

'  The  best  compliments  are  those  that  flutter  about 
your  head  like  butterflies  around  a  flower.' 

'  I  much  prefer  to  fix  them  down  on  a  board  with  a 
pin  through  their  insides  and  a  narrow  strip  of  paper 
to  hold  down  each  wing.' 

It  was  October,  but  the  autumn,  late  that  year,  had 
scarcely  coloured  the  leaves,  and  the  day  was  warm. 
Mrs.  Crowley,  however,  was  a  chilly  being,  and  a  fire 
burned  in  the  grate.  She  put  another  log  on  it  and 
watched  the  merry  crackle  of  the  flames. 

'  It  was  very  good  of  you  to  ask  Lucy  down  here,' 
said  Dick,  suddenly. 

'  I  don't  know  why,  I  like  her  so  much.  And  I  felt 
sure  she  would  fit  the  place.  She  looks  a  little  like  a 
Gainsborough  portrait,  doesn't  she?  And  I  like  to  see 
her  in  this  Georgian  house.' 


28  THE    EXPLORER 

'  She's  not  had  much  of  a  time  since  they  sold  the 
family  place.  It  was  a  great  grief  to  her.' 

'  I  feel  such  a  pig  to  have  here  the  things  I  bought 
at  the  sale.' 

When  the  contents  of  Hamlyn's  Purlieu  were  sent  to 
Christy's,  Mrs.  Crowley,  recently  widowed  and  without 
a  home,  had  bought  one  or  two  pictures  and  some  old 
chairs.  She  had  brought  these  down  to  Court  Leys,  and 
was  much  tormented  at  the  thought  of  causing  Lucy  a 
new  grief. 

'  Perhaps  she  didn't  recognise  them,'  said  Dick. 

'  Don't  be  so  idiotic.  Of  course  she  recognised  them. 
I  saw  her  eyes  fall  on  the  Eeynolds  the  very  moment 
she  came  into  the  room.' 

'  I'm  sure  she  would  rather  you  had  them  than  any 
stranger.' 

'  She's  said  nothing  about  them.  You  know,  I'm 
very  fond  of  her,  and  I  admire  her  extremely,  but  she 
would  be  easier  to  get  on  with  if  she  were  less  re- 
served. I  never  shall  get  into  this  English  way  of 
bottling  up  my  feelings  and  sitting  on  them.' 

'  It  sounds  a  less  comfortable  way  of  reposing  one- 
self than  sitting  in  an  armchair.' 

'  I  would  offer  to  give  Lucy  back  all  the  things  I 
bought,  only  I'm  sure  she'd  snub  me.' 

'  She  doesn't  mean  to  be  unkind,  but  she's  had  a  very 
hard  life,  and  it's  had  its  effect  on  her  character.  I 
don't  think  anyone  knows  what  she's  gone  through  dur- 
ing these  ten  years.  She's  borne  the  responsibilities  of 
her  whole  family  since  she  was  fifteen,  and  if  the  crash 
didn't  come  sooner,  it  was  owing  to  her.  She's  never 
been  a  girl,  poor  thing;  she  was  a  child,  and  then  sud- 
denly she  was  a  woman.' 


THE    EXPLORER  29 

'  But  has  she  never  had  any  lovers  ?  ' 

'  I  fancy  that  she's  rather  a  difficult  person  to  make 
love  to.  It  would  be  a  bold  young  man  who  whispered 
sweet  nothings  into  her  ear;  they'd  sound  so  very 
foolish/ 

'  At  all  events  there's  Bobbie  Boulger.  I'm  sure  he's 
asked  her  to  marry  him  scores  of  times.' 

Sir  Robert  Boulger  had  succeeded  his  father,  the 
manufacturer,  as  second  baronet;  and  had  promptly 
placed  his  wealth  and  his  personal  advantages  at  Lucy's 
feet.  His  devotion  to  her  was  well  known  to  his  friends. 
They  had  all  listened  to  the  protestations  of  undying 
passion,  which  Lucy,  with  gentle  humoiir,  put  smilingly 
aside.  Lady  Kelsey,  his  aunt  and  Lucy's,  had  done 
all  she  could  to  bring  the  pair  together ;  and  it  was  evi- 
dent that  from  every  point  of  view  a  marriage  between 
them  was  desirable.  He  was  not  unattractive  in  ap- 
p6arance,  his  fortune  was  considerable,  and  his  man- 
ners were  good.  He  was  a  good-natured,  pleasant  fel- 
low, with  no  great  strength  of  character  perhaps,  but 
Lucy  had  enough  of  that  for  two ;  and  with  her  to  steady 
him,  he  had  enough  brains  to  make  some  figure  in  the 
world. 

'  I've  never  seen  Mr.  Allerton,'  remarked  Mrs.  Crow- 
ley,  presently.  '  He  must  be  a  horrid  man.' 

'  On  the  contrary,  he's  the  most  charming  creature  I 
ever  met,  and  I  don't  believe  there's  a  man  in  London 
who  can  borrow  a  hundred  pounds  of  you  with  a  greater 
air  of  doing  you  a  service.  If  you  met  him  you'd  fall 
in  love  with  him  before  you'd  got  well  into  your  favour- 
ite conversation  on  bimetallism.' 

'  I've  never  discussed  bimetallism  in  my  life,'  pro- 
tested Mrs.  Crowley. 


30  THE    EXPLORER 

'  All  women  do/ 

'What?' 

'  Fall  in  love  with  him.  He  knows  exactly  what  to 
talk  to  them  about,  and  he  has  the  most  persuasive 
voice  you  ever  heard.  I  believe  Lady  Kelsey  has  been 
in  love  with  him  for  five  and  twenty  years.  It's  lucky 
they've  not  yet  passed  the  deceased  wife's  sister's  bill,  or 
he  would  have  married  her  and  run  through  her  money 
as  he  did  his  first  wife's.  He's  still  very  good-looking, 
and  there's  such  a  transparent  honesty  about  him  that 
I  promise  you  he's  irresistible.' 

'  And  what  has  happened  to  him  since  the  catas- 
trophe?' 

'  Well,  the  position  of  an  undischarged  bankrupt  is 
never  particularly  easy,  though  I've  known  men  who've 
cavorted  about  in  motors  and  given  dinners  at  the  Carl- 
ton  when  they  were  in  that  state,  and  seemed  perfectly 
at  peace  with  the  world  in  general.  But  with  Fred  Al- 
lerton  the  proceedings  before  the  Official  Receiver  seem 
to  have  broken  down  the  last  remnants  of  his  self-re- 
spect. He  was  glad  to  get  rid  of  his  children,  and 
Lady  Kelsey  was  only  too  happy  to  provide  for  them. 
Heaven  only  knows  how  he's  lived  during  the  last  two 
years.  He's  still  occupied  with  a  variety  of  crack- 
brained  schemes,  and  he's  been  to  me  more  than  once 
for  money  to  finance  them  with.' 

'  I  hope  you  weren't  such  a  fool  as  to  give  it.' 

'  I  wasn't.  I  flatter  myself  that  I  combined  frank- 
ness with  good-nature  in  the  right  proportion,  and  in 
the  end  he  was  always  satisfied  with  the  nimble  fiver. 
But  I'm  afraid  things  are  going  harder  with  him.  He 
has  lost  his  old  alert  gaiety,  and  he's  a  little  down  at  heel 
in  character  as  well  as  in  person.  There's  a  furtive 


THE    EXPLORER  51 

look  about  him,  as  though  he  were  ready  for  under- 
takings that  were  not  quite  above  board,  and  there's  a 
shiftiness  in  his  eye  which  makes  his  company  a  little 
disagreeable.' 

'  You  don't  think  he'd  do  anything  dishonest  ?  '  asked 
Mrs.  Crowley  quickly. 

'  Oh,  no.  I  don't  believe  he  has  the  nerve  to  sail 
closer  to  the  wind  than  the  law  allows,  and  really,  at 
bottom,  notwithstanding  all  I  know  of  him,  I  think  he's 
an  honest  man.  It's  only  behind  his  back  that  I  have 
any  doubts  about  him ;  when  he's  there  face  to  face  with 
me  I  succumb  to  his  charm.  I  can  believe  nothing  to 
his  discredit/ 

At  that  moment  they  saw  Lucy  walking  towards 
them.  Dick  Lomas  got  up  and  stood  at  the  window. 
Mrs.  Crowley,  motionless,  watched  her  from  her  chair. 
They  were  both  silent.  A  smile  of  sympathy  played 
on  Mrs.  Crowley's  lips,  and  her  heart  went  out  to  the 
girl  who  had  undergone  so  much.  A  vague  memory 
came  back  to  her,  and  for  a  moment  she  was  puzzled; 
but  then  she  hit  upon  the  idea  that  had  hovered  about 
her  mind,  and  she  remembered  distinctly  the  admirable 
picture  by  John  Furse  at  Millbank,  which  is  called 
Diana  of  the  Uplands.  It  had  pleased  her  always,  not 
only  because  of  its  beauty  and  the  fine  power  of  the 
painter,  but  because  it  seemed  to  her  as  it  were  a  syn- 
thesis of  the  English  spirit.  Her  nationality  gave  her 
an  interest  in  the  observation  of  this,  and  her  wide, 
systematic  reading  the  power  to  compare  and  analyse. 
This  portrait  of  a  young  woman  holding  two  hounds  in 
leash,  the  wind  of  the  northern  moor  on  which  she 
stands,  blowing  her  skirts  and  outlining  her  lithe 
figure,  seemed  to  Mrs.  Crowley  admirably  to  follow  in 


22  THE    EXPLORER 

the  tradition  of  the  eighteenth  century.  And  as 
Eeynolds  and  Gainsborough,  with  their  elegant  ladies 
in  powdered  hair  and  high-waisted  gowns,  standing  in 
leafy,  woodland  scenes,  had  given  a  picture  of  England 
in  the  age  of  Eeason,  well-bred  and  beautiful,  artificial 
and  a  little  airless,  so  had  Furse  in  this  represented 
the  England  of  to-day.  It  was  an  England  that  valued 
cleanliness  above  all  things,  of  the  body  and  of  the 
spirit,  an  England  that  loved  the  open  air  and  feared 
not  the  wildness  of  nature  nor  the  violence  of  the  ele- 
ments. And  Mrs.  Crowley  had  lived  long  enough  in 
the  land  of  her  fathers  to  know  that  this  was  a  true 
England,  simple  and  honest ;  narrow  perhaps,  and  preju- 
diced, but  strong,  brave,  and  of  great  ideals.  The  girl 
who  stood  on  that  upland,  looking  so  candidly  out  of 
her  blue  eyes,  was  a  true  descendant  of  the  ladies  that 
Sir  Joshua  painted,  but  she  had  a  bath  every  morning, 
loved  her  dogs,  and  wore  a  short,  serviceable  skirt.  With 
an  inward  smile,  Mrs.  Crowley  acknowledged  that  she 
was  probably  bored  by  Emerson  and  ignorant  of  Eng- 
lish literature;  but  for  the  moment  she  was  willing  to 
pardon  these  failings  in  her  admiration  for  the  char- 
acter and  all  it  typified. 

Lucy  came  in,  and  Mrs.  Crowley  gave  her  a  nod  of 
welcome.  She  was  fond  of  her  fantasies  and  would 
not  easily  interrupt  them.  She  noted  that  Lucy  had 
just  that  frank  look  of  Diana  of  the  Uplands,  and  the 
delicate,  sensitive  face,  refined  with  the  good-breeding 
of  centuries,  but  strengthened  by  an  athletic  life.  Her 
skin  was  very  clear.  It  had  gained  a  peculiar  fresh- 
ness by  exposure  to  all  manner  of  weather.  Her  bright, 
fair  hair  was  a  little  disarranged  after  her  walk,  and 
she  went  to  the  glass  to  set  it  right.  Mrs.  Crowley  ob- 


THE    EXPLORER  33 

served  with  delight  the  straightness  of  her  nose  and 
the  delicate  curve  of  her  lips.  She  was  tall  and  strong, 
but  her  figure  was  very  slight;  and  there  was  a  charm- 
ing litheness  about  her  which  suggested  the  good  horse- 
woman. 

But  what  struck  Mrs.  Crowley  most  was  that  only 
the  keenest  observer  could  have  told  that  she  had  en- 
dured more  than  other  women  of  her  age.  A  stranger 
would  have  delighted  in  her  frank  smile  and  the 
kindly  sympathy  of  her  eyes;  and  it  was  only  if  you 
knew  the  troubles  she  had  suffered  that  you  saw  how- 
much  more  womanly  she  was  than  girlish.  There  was 
a  self-possession  about  her  which  came  from  the  re- 
sponsibilities she  had  borne  so  long,  and  an  unusual 
reserve,  unconsciously  masked  by  a  great  charm  of  man- 
ner, which  only  intimate  friends  discerned,  but  which 
even  to  them  was  impenetrable.  Mrs.  Crowley,  with 
her  American  impulsiveness,  had  tried  in  all  kindliness 
to  get  through  the  barrier,  but  she  had  never  succeeded. 
All  Lucy's  struggles,  her  heart-burnings  and  griefs, 
her  sudden  despairs  and  eager  hopes,  her  tempestuous 
angers,  took  place  in  the  bottom  of  her  heart.  She 
would  have  been  as  dismayed  at  the  thought  of  others 
seeing  them  as  she  would  have  been  at  the  thought  of 
being  discovered  unclothed.  Shyness  and  pride  com- 
bined to  make  her  hide  her  innermost  feelings  so  that 
no  one  should  venture  to  offer  sympathy  or  commisera- 
tion. 

'  Do  ring  the  bell  for  tea,'  said  Mrs.  Crowley  to 
Lucy,  as  she  turned  away  from  the  glass.  '  I  can't  get 
Mr.  Lomas  to  amuse  me  till  he's  had  some  stimulating 
refreshment.' 

'  I  hope  you  like  the  tea  I  sent  you,'  said  Dick. 

3 


34  THE    EXPLORER 

'  Very  much.  Though  I'm  inclined  to  look  upon  it 
as  a  slight  that  you  should  send  me  down  only  just 
enough  to  last  over  your  visit.' 

'  I  always  herald  my  arrival  in  a  country  house  by  a 
little  present  of  tea,"  said  Dick.  '  The  fact  is  it's  the 
only  good  tea  in  the  world.  I  sent  my  father  to  China 
for  seven  years  to  find  it,  and  I'm  sure  you  will  agree 
that  my  father  has  not  lived  an  ill-spent  life.' 

The  tea  was  brought  and  duly  drunk.  Mrs.  Crowley 
asked  Lucy  how  her  brother  was.  He  had  been  at  Ox- 
ford for  the  last  two  years. 

'  I  had  a  letter  from  him  yesterday/  the  girl  answered. 
1 1  think  he's  getting  on  very  well.  I  hope  he'll  take 
his  degree  next  year.' 

A  happy  brightness  came  into  her  eyes  as  she  talked 
of  him.  She  apologised,  blushing,  for  her  eager- 
ness. 

'  You  know,  I've  looked  after  George  ever  since  he 
was  ten,  and  I  feel  like  a  mother  to  him.  It's  only  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  I  can  prevent  myself  from  telling 
you  how  he  got  through  the  measles,  and  how  well  lie 
bore  vaccination/ 

Lucy  was  very  proud  of  her  brother.  She  found  a 
constant  satisfaction  in  his  good  looks,  and  she  loved 
the  openness  of  his  smile.  She  had  striven  with  all 
her  might  to  keep  away  from  him  the  troubles  that  op- 
pressed her,  and  had  determined  that  nothing,  if  she 
could  help  it,  should  disturb  his  radiant  satisfaction 
with  the  world.  She  knew  that  he  was  apt  to  lean  on 
her,  but  though  she  chid  herself  sometimes  for  fostering 
the  tendency,  she  could  not  really  prevent  the  intense 
pleasure  it  gave  her.  He  was  young  yet,  and  would 
ioon  enough  grow  into  manly  ways;  it  could  not  mat- 


THE    EXPLORER  35 

ter  if  now  he  depended  upon  her  for  everything.  She 
rejoiced  in  the  ardent  affection  which  he  gave  her;  and 
the  implicit  trust  he  placed  in  her,  the  complete  reli- 
ance on  her  judgment,  filled  her  with  a  proud  humility. 
It  made  her  feel  stronger  and  better  capable  of  af- 
fronting the  difficulties  of  life.  And  Lucy,  living  much 
in  the  future,  was  pleased  to  see  how  beloved  George 
was  of  all  his  friends.  Everyone  seemed  willing  to 
help  him,  and  this  seemed  of  good  omen  for  the  career 
which  she  had  mapped  out  for  him. 

The  recollection  of  him  came  to  Lucy  now  as  she  had 
last  seen  him.  They  had  been  spending  part  of  the 
summer  with  Lady  Kelsey  at  her  house  on  the  Thames. 
George  was  going  to  Scotland  to  stay  with  friends,  and 
Lucy,  bound  elsewhere,  was  leaving  earlier  in  the  after- 
noon. He  came  to  see  her  off.  She  was  touched,  in 
her  own  sorrow  at  leaving  him,  by  his  obvious  emotion. 
The  tears  were  in  his  eyes  as  he  kissed  her  on  the  plat- 
form. She  saw  him  waving  to  her  as  the  train  sped 
towards  London,  slender  and  handsome,  looking  more 
boyish  than  ever  in  his  whites;  and  she  felt  a  thrill  of 
gratitude  because,  with  all  her  sorrows  and  regrets,  she 
at  least  had  him. 

*  I  hope  he's  a  good  shot/  she  said  inconsequently, 
as  Mrs.  Crowley  handed  her  a  cup  of  tea.  '  Of  course 
it's  in  the  family.' 

'  Marvellous  family ! '  said  Dick,  ironically.  { You 
would  be  wiser  to  wish  he  had  a  good  head  for  figures/ 

'  But  I  hope  he  has  that,  too,'  she  answered. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  George  should  go  into 
the  business  in  which  Lady  Kelsey  still  had  a  large  in- 
terest. Lucy  wanted  him  to  make  great  sums  of  money, 
so  that  he  might  pay  his  father's  debts,  and  perhaps 


36  THE    EXPLORER 

buy  back  the  house  which  her  family  had  owned  so 
long. 

'  I  want  him  to  be  a  clever  man  of  business — since 
business  is  the  only  thing  open  to  him  now — and  an  ex- 
cellent sportsman.' 

She  was  too  shy  to  describe  her  ambition,  but  her 
fancy  had  already  cast  a  glow  over  the  calling  which 
George  was  to  adopt.  There  was  in  the  family  an  in- 
nate tendency  toward  the  more  exquisite  things  of  life, 
and  this  would  colour  his  career.  She  hoped  he  would 
become  a  merchant  prince  after  the  pattern  of  those 
Florentines  who  have  left  an  ideal  for  succeeding  ages 
of  the  way  in  which  commerce  may  be  ennobled  by  a 
liberal  view  of  life.  Like  them  he  could  drive  hard 
bargains  and  amass  riches — she  recognised  that  riches 
now  were  the  surest  means  of  power — but  like  them 
also  he  could  love  music  and  art  and  literature,  cherish- 
ing the  things  of  the  soul  with  a  careful  taste,  and  at 
the  same  time  excel  in  all  sports  of  the  field.  Life 
then  would  be  as  full  as  a  man's  heart  could  wish ;  and 
this  intermingling  of  interests  might  so  colour  it  that 
he  would  lead  the  whole  with  a  certain  beauty  and 
grandeur. 

'  I  wish  I  were  a  man/  she  cried,  with  a  bright  smile. 
'  It's  so  hard  that  I  can  do  nothing  but  sit  at  home  and 
spur  others  on.  I  want  to  do  things  myself/ 

Mrs.  Crowley  leaned  back  in  her  chair.  She  gave 
her  skirt  a  little  twist  so  that  the  line  of  her  form 
should  be  more  graceful. 

'  I'm  so  glad  I'm  a  woman/  she  murmured.  '  I  want 
none  of  the  privileges  of  the  sex  which  I'm  delighted  to 
call  stronger.  I  want  men  to  be  noble  and  heroic  and 
»elf-sacrificing;  then  they  can  protect  me  from  a  trouble- 


THE    EXPLORER  37 

some  world,  and  look  after  me,  and  wait  upon  me.  I'm 
an  irresponsible  creature  with  whom  they  can  never  be 
annoyed  however  exacting  I  am — it's  only  pretty 
thoughtlessness  on  my  part — and  they  must  never  lose 
their  tempers  however  I  annoy — it's  only  nerves.  Oh, 
no,  I  like  to  be  a  poor,  weak  woman/ 

'  You're  a  monster  of  cynicism,'  cried  Dick.  '  You 
use  an  imaginary  helplessness  with  the  brutality  of  a 
buccaneer,  and  your  ingenuousness  is  a  pistol  you  put 
to  one's  head,  crying :  your  money  or  your  life.' 

'  You  look  very  comfortable,  dear  Mr.  Lomas,'  she  re- 
torted. '  Would  you  mind  very  much  if  I  asked  you  to 
put  my  footstool  right  for  me  ?  ' 

1 1  should  mind  immensely,'  he  smiled,  without 
moving. 

'  Oh,  please  do/  she  said,  with  a  piteous  little  ex- 
pression of  appeal.  '  I'm  so  uncomfortable,  and  my 
foot's  going  to  sleep.  And  you  needn't  be  horrid  to 
me.' 

'  I  didn't  know  you  really  meant  it,'  he  said,  get- 
ting up  obediently  and  doing  what  was  required  of 
him. 

'  I  didn't,'  she  answered,  as  soon  as  he  had  finished. 
'  But  I  know  you're  a  lazy  creature,  and  I  merely  wanted 
to  see  if  I  could  make  you  move  when  I'd  warned  you 
immediately  before  that — I  was  a  womanly  woman.' 

'  I  wonder  if  you'd  make  Alec  MacKenzie  do  that  ? ' 
laughed  Dick,  good-naturedly. 

'  Good  heavens,  I'd  never  try.  Haven't  you  discov- 
ered that  women  know  by  instinct  what  men  they  can 
make  fools  of,  and  they  only  try  their  arts  on  them? 
They've  gained  their  reputation  for  omnipotence  only 
on  account  of  their  robust  common-sense,  which  leads 


38  THE    EXPLORER 

them  only  to  attack  fortresses  which  are  already  half 
demolished.' 

'  That  suggests  to  my  mind  that  every  woman  is  a 
Potiphar's  wife,  though  every  man  isn't  a  Joseph/  said 
Dick. 

'  Your  remark  is  too  blunt  to  be  witty/  returned 
Mrs.  Crowley,  *  but  it's  not  without  its  grain  of  truth.' 

Lucy,  smiling,  listened  to  the  nonsense  they  talked. 
In  their  company  she  lost  all  sense  of  reality;  Mrs. 
Crowley  was  so  fragile,  and  Dick  had  such  a  whimsical 
gaiety,  that  she  could  not  treat  them  as  real  persons. 
She  felt  herself  a  grown-up  being  assisting  at  some 
childish  game  in  which  preposterous  ideas  were  ban- 
died to  and  fro  like  answers  in  the  game  of  conse- 
quences. 

'  I  never  saw  people  wander  from  the  subject  as  you 
do/  she  protested.  '  I  can't  imagine  what  connection 
there  is  between  whether  Mr.  MacKenzie  would  arrange 
Julia's  footstool,  and  the  profligacy  of  the  female  sex.' 

'  Don't  be  hard  on  us/  said  Mrs.  Crowley.  '  I  must 
work  off  my  flippancy  before  he  arrives,  and  then  I  shall 
be  ready  to  talk  imperially.' 

'When  does  Alec  come?'  asked  Dick. 

'  Now,  this  very  minute.  I've  sent  a  carriage  to  meet 
him  at  the  station.  You  won't  let  him  depress  me,  will 
you?' 

*  Why  did  you  ask  him  if  he  affects  you  in  that  way  ?  * 
asked  Lucy,  laughing. 

'But  I  like  him — at  least  I  think  I  do — and  in 
any  case,  I  admire  him,  and  I'm  sure  he's  good  for  me. 
And  Mr.  Lomas  wanted  me  to  ask  him,  and  he  plays 
bridge  extraordinarily  well.  And  I  thought  he  would 
be  interesting.  The  only  thing  I  have  against  him  is 


THE    EXPLORER  39 

that  he  never  laughs  when  I  say  a  clever  thing,  and 
looks  so  uncomfortably  at  me  when  I  say  a  foolish  one/ 

'  I'm  glad  I  laugh  when  you  say  a  clever  thing/  said 
Dick. 

'  You  don't.  But  you  roar  so  heartily  at  your  own 
jokes  that  if  I  hurry  up  and  slip  one  in  before  you've 
done,  I  can  often  persuade  myself  that  you're  laughing 
at  mine/ 

'  And  do  you  like  Alec  MacKenzie,  Lucy  ? '  asked 
Dick. 

She  paused  for  a  moment  before  she  answered,  and 
hesitated. 

'  I  don't  know/  she  said.  '  Sometimes  I  think  I 
rather  dislike  him.  But  I'm  like  Julia,  I  certainly 
admire  him/ 

'  I  suppose  he  is  rather  alarming/  said  Dick.  '  He's 
difficult  to  know,  and  he's  obviously  impatient  with 
other  people's  affectations.  There's  a  certain  grimness 
about  him  which  disturbs  you  unless  you  know  him  in- 
timately/ 

'  He's  your  greatest  friend,  isn't  he  ?  ' 

'  He  is/ 

Dick  paused  for  a  little  while. 

'  I've  known  him  for  twenty  years  now,  and  I  look 
upon  him  as  the  greatest  man  I've  ever  set  eyes  on. 
I  think  it's  an  inestimable  privilege  to  have  been  his 
friend/ 

'  I've  not  noticed  that  you  treated  him  with  especial 
awe/  said  Mrs.  Crowley. 

'  Heaven  save  us ! '  cried  Dick.  '  I  can  only  hold  my 
own  by  laughing  at  him  persistently/ 

'  He  bears  it  with  unexampled  good-nature/ 

{  Have  I  ever  told  you  how  I  made  his  acquaintance  ? 


40  THE    EXPLORER 

It  was  in  about  fifty  fathoms  of  water,  and  at  least  a 
thousand  miles  from  land.' 

'  What  an  inconvenient  place  for  an  introduction ! ' 

'  We  were  both  very  wet.  I  was  a  young  fool  in  those 
days,  and  I  was  playing  the  giddy  goat — I  was  just 
going  up  to  Oxford,  and  my  wise  father  had  sent  me 
to  America  on  a  visit  to  enlarge  my  mind — I  fell  over- 
board and  was  proceeding  to  drown,  when  Alec  jumped 
in  after  me  and  held  me  up  by  the  hair  of  my  head/ 

'  He'd  have  some  difficulty  in  doing  that  now, 
wouldn't  he  ? '  suggested  Mrs.  Crowley,  with  a  glance 
at  Dick's  thinning  locks. 

'  And  the  odd  thing  is  that  he  was  absurdly  grateful 
to  me  for  letting  myself  be  saved.  He  seemed  to  think 
I  had  done  him  an  intentional  service,  and  fallen  into 
the  Atlantic  for  the  sole  purpose  of  letting  him  pull 
me  out.' 

Dick  had  scarcely  said  these  words  when  they  heard 
the  carriage  drive  up  to  the  door  of  Court  Leys. 

'  There  he  is,'  cried  Dick  eagerly. 

Mrs.  Crowley's  butler  opened  the  door  and  announced 
the  man  they  had  been  discussing.  Alexander  Mac- 
Kenzie  came  in. 

He  was  just  under  six  feet  high,  spare  and  well-made. 
He  did  not  at  the  first  glance  give  you  the  impression  of 
particular  strength,  but  his  limbs  were  well-knit,  there 
was  no  superfluous  flesh  about  him,  and  you  felt  imme- 
diately that  he  had  great  powers  of  endurance.  His 
hair  was  dark  and  cut  very  close.  His  short  beard  and 
his  moustache  were  red.  They  concealed  the  squareness 
of  his  chin  and  the  determination  of  his  mouth.  His 
eyes  were  not  large,  but  they  rested  on  the  object  that 
attracted  his  attention  with  a  peculiar  fixity.  When  he 


THE    EXPLORER  41 

talked  to  you  he  did  not  glance  this  way  or  that,  but 
looked  straight  at  you  with  a  deliberate  steadiness  that 
was  a  little  disconcerting.  He  walked  with  an  easy 
swing,  like  a  man  in  the  habit  of  covering  a  vast  num- 
ber of  miles  each  day,  and  there  was  in  his  manner  a 
self-assurance  which  suggested  that  he  was  used  to 
command.  His  skin  was  tanned  by  exposure  to  tropical 
suns. 

Mrs.  Crowley  and  Dick  chattered  light-heartedly,  but 
it  was  clear  that  he  had  no  power  of  small-talk,  and 
after  the  first  greetings  he  fell  into  silence;  he  re- 
fused tea,  but  Mrs.  Crowley  poured  out  a  cup  and 
handed  it  to  him. 

'  You  need  not  drink  it,  but  I  insist  on  your  holding 
it  in  your  hand.  I  hate  people  who  habitually  deny 
themselves  things,  and  I  can't  allow  you  to  mortify  the 
flesh  in  my  house/ 

Alec  smiled  gravely. 

'  Of  course  I  will  drink  it  if  it  pleases  you,'  he 
answered.  '  I  got  in  the  habit  in  Africa  of  eating  only 
two  meals  a  day,  and  I  can't  get  out  of  it  now.  But 
I'm  afraid  it's  very  inconvenient  for  my  friends/  He 
looked  at  Lomas,  and  though  his  mouth  did  not  smile, 
a  look  came  into  his  eyes,  partly  of  tenderness,  partly  of 
amusement.  ( Dick,  of  course,  eats  far  too  much/ 

'  Good  heavens,  I'm  nearly  the  only  person  left  in 
London  who  is  completely  normal.  I  eat  my  three 
square  meals  a  day  regularly,  and  I  always  have  a 
comfortable  tea  into  the  bargain.  I  don't  suffer  from 
any  disease.  I'm  in  the  best  of  health.  I  have  no  fads. 
I  neither  nibble  nuts  like  a  squirrel,  nor  grapes  like  a 
bird — I  care  nothing  for  all  this  jargon  about  pepsins 
and  proteids  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  I'm  not  a  vege- 


42  THE    EXPLORER 

tarian,  but  a  carnivorous  animal;  I  drink  when  I'm 
thirsty,  and  I  decidedly  prefer  my  beverages  to  be  alco- 
holic/ 

'  I  was  thinking  at  luncheon  to-day/  said  Mrs. 
Crowley,  '  that  the  pleasure  you  took  in  roast-beef  and 
ale  showed  a  singularly  gross  and  unemotional  nature.' 

'  I  adore  good  food  as  I  adore  all  the  other  pleasant 
things  of  life,  and  because  I  have  that  gift  I  am  able 
to  look  upon  the  future  with  equanimity.' 

'Why?'  asked  Alec. 

1  Because  a  love  for  good  food  is  the  only  thing  that 
remains  with  man  when  he  grows  old.  Love  ?  What  is 
love  when  you  are  five  and  fifty  and  can  no  longer  hide 
the  disgraceful  baldness  of  your  pate.  Ambition  ?  What 
is  ambition  when  you  have  discovered  that  honours  are 
to  the  pushing  and  glory  to  the  vulgar.  Finally  we 
must  all  reach  an  age  when  every  passion  seems  vain, 
every  desire  not  worth  the  trouble  of  achieving  it;  but 
then  there  still  remain  to  the  man  with  a  good  appe- 
tite three  pleasures  each  day,  his  breakfast,  his  luncheon, 
and  his  dinner/ 

Alec's  eyes  rested  on  him  quietly.  He  had  never  got 
out  of  the  habit  of  looking  upon  Dick  as  a  scatter-brained 
boy  who  talked  nonsense  for  the  fun  of  it;  and  his  ex- 
pression wore  the  amused  disdain  which  one  might  have 
seen  on  a  Saint  Bernard  when  a  toy-terrier  was  going 
through  its  tricks. 

'  Please  say  something,'  cried  Dick,  half-irritably. 

'  I  suppose  you  say  those  things  in  order  that  I  may 
contradict  you.  Why  should  I?  They're  perfectly  un- 
true, and  I  don't  agree  with  a  single  word  you  say. 
But  if  it  amuses  you  to  talk  nonsense,  I  don't  see  why 
you  shouldn't.' 


THE    EXPLORER  43 

'  My  dear  Alec,  I  wish  you  wouldn't  use  the  mailed 
fist  in  your  conversation.  It's  so  very  difficult  to  play  a 
game  with  a  spillikin  on  one  side  and  a  sledge-hammer 
on  the  other/ 

Lucy,  sitting  back  in  her  chair,  quietly,  was  observ- 
ing the  new  arrival.  Dick  had  asked  her  and  Mrs. 
Crowley  to  meet  him  at  luncheon  immediately  after  his 
arrival  from  Mombassa.  This  was  two  months  ago  now, 
and  since  then  she  had  seen  much  of  him.  But  she  felt 
that  she  knew  him  little  more  than  on  that  first  day, 
and  still  she  could  not  make  up  her  mind  whether  she 
liked  him  or  not.  She  was  glad  that  they  were  staying 
together  at  Court  Leys;  it  would  give  her  an  oppor- 
tunity of  really  becoming  acquainted  with  him,  and 
there  was  no  doubt  that  he  was  worth  the  trouble.  The 
fire  lit  up  his  face,  casting  grim  shadows  upon  it,  so 
that  it  looked  more  than  ever  masterful  and  deter- 
mined. He  was  unconscious  that  her  eyes  rested 
upon  him.  He  was  always  unconscious  of  the  attention 
he  aroused. 

Lucy  hoped  that  she  would  induce  him  to  talk  of 
the  work  he  had  done,  and  the  work  upon  which  he  was 
engaged.  With  her  mind  fixed  always  on  great  en- 
deavours, his  career  interested  her  enormously;  and  it 
gained  something  mysterious  as  well  because  there  were 
gaps  in  her  knowledge  of  him  which  no  one  seemed 
able  to  fill.  He  knew  few  people  in  London,  but  was 
known  in  one  way  or  another  of  many ;  and  all  who  had 
come  in  contact  with  him  were  unanimous  in  their 
opinion.  He  was  supposed  to  know  Africa  as  no 
other  man  knew  it.  During  fifteen  years  he  had 
been  through  every  part  of  it,  and  had  traversed  dis- 
tricts which  the  white  man  had  left  untouched.  But 


44.  THE    EXPLORER 

he  had  never  written  of  his  experiences,  partly  from 
indifference  to  chronicle  the  results  of  his  undertakings, 
partly  from  a  natural  secrecy  which  made  him  hate  to 
recount  his  deeds  to  all  and  sundry.  It  seemed  that  re- 
serve was  a  deep-rooted  instinct  with  him,  and  he  was 
inclined  to  keep  to  himself  all  that  he  discovered.  But 
if  on  this  account  he  was  unknown  to  the  great  public, 
his  work  was  appreciated  very  highly  by  specialists. 
He  had  read  papers  before  the  Geographical  Society, 
(though  it  had  been  necessary  to  exercise  much  pres- 
sure to  induce  him  to  do  so),  which  had  excited 
profound  interest;  and  occasionally  letters  appeared 
from  him  in  Nature,  or  in  one  of  the  ethnographical 
publications,  stating  briefly  some  discovery  he  had 
made,  or  some  observation  which  he  thought  necessary 
to  record.  He  had  been  asked  now  and  again  to  make 
reports  to  the  Foreign  Office  upon  matters  pertaining 
to  the  countries  he  knew;  and  Lucy  had  heard  his  per- 
spicacity praised  in  no  measured  terms  by  those  in 
power. 

She  put  together  such  facts  as  she  knew  of  his 
career. 

Alec  MacKenzie  was  a  man  of  considerable  means. 
He  belonged  to  an  old  Scotch  family,  and  had  a  fine 
place  in  the  Highlands,  but  his  income  depended  chiefly 
upon  a  colliery  in  Lancashire.  His  parents  died  during 
his  childhood,  and  his  wealth  was  much  increased  by  a 
long  minority.  Having  inherited  from  an  uncle  a 
ranch  in  the  West,  his  desire  to  see  this  occasioned 
his  first  voyage  from  England  in  the  interval  between 
leaving  Eton  and  going  up  to  Oxford ;  and  it  was  then 
he  made  acquaintance  with  Richard  Lomas,  who  had 
remained  his  most  intimate  friend.  The  unlikeness  of 


THE    EXPLORER  45 

the  two  men  caused  perhaps  the  strength  of  the  tie  be- 
tween them,  the  strenuous  vehemence  of  the  one  finding 
a  relief  in  the  gaiety  of  the  other.  Soon  after  leaving 
Oxford,  MacKenzie  made  a  brief  expedition  into  Al- 
geria to  shoot,  and  the  mystery  of  the  great  continent 
seized  him.  As  sometimes  a  man  comes  upon  a  new 
place  which  seems  extraordinarily  familiar,  so  that  he  is 
almost  convinced  that  in  a  past  state  he  has  known  it 
intimately,  Alec  suddenly  found  himself  at  home  in  the 
immense  distances  of  Africa.  He  felt  a  singular  ex- 
hilaration when  the  desert  was  spread  out  before  his 
eyes,  and  capacities  which  he  had  not  suspected  in  him- 
self awoke  in  him.  He  had  never  thought  himself  an 
ambitious  man,  but  ambition  seized  him.  He  had  never 
imagined  himself  subject  to  poetic  emotion,  but  all  at 
once  a  feeling  of  the  poetry  of  an  adventurous  life 
welled  up  within  him.  And  though  he  had  looked  upon 
romance  with  the  scorn  of  his  Scottish  common  sense, 
an  irresistible  desire  of  the  romantic  surged  upon  him, 
like  the  waves  of  some  unknown,  mystical  sea. 

When  he  returned  to  England  a  peculiar  restlessness 
took  hold  of  him.  He  was  indifferent  to  the  magnifi- 
cence of  the  bag  which  was  the  pride  of  his  com- 
panions. He  felt  himself  cribbed  and  confined.  He 
could  not  breathe  the  air  of  cities. 

He  began  to  read  the  marvellous  records  of  African 
exploration,  and  his  blood  tingled  at  the  magic  of  those 
pages.  Mungo  Park,  a  Scot  like  himself,  had  started 
the  roll.  His  aim  had  been  to  find  the  source  and  trace 
the  seaward  course  of  the  Niger.  He  took  his  life  in 
his  hands,  facing  boldly  the  perils  of  climate,  savage 
pagans,  and  jealous  Mohammedans,  and  discovered  the 
upper  portions  of  that  great  river.  On  a  s«cond  ex- 


46  THE    EXPLORER 

pedition  he  undertook  to  follow  it  to  the  sea.  Of  his 
party  some  died  of  disease,  and  some  were  slain  by  the 
natives.  Not  one  returned;  and  the  only  trace  of 
Mungo  Park  was  a  book,  known  to  have  been  in  his 
possession,  found  by  British  explorers  in  the  hut  of  a 
native  chief. 

Then  Alec  MacKenzie  read  of  the  efforts  to  reach 
Timbuktu,  which  was  the  great  object  of  ambition  to 
the  explorers  of  the  nineteenth  century.  It  exercised 
the  same  fascination  over  their  minds  as  did  El  Do- 
rado, with  its  golden  city  of  Monoa,  to  the  adventurers 
in  the  days  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  It  was  thought  to  be 
the  capital  of  a  powerful  and  wealthy  state;  and  those 
ardent  minds  promised  themselves  all  kinds  of  wonders 
when  they  should  at  last  come  upon  it.  But  it  was 
not  the  desire  for  gold  that  urged  them  on,  rather  an 
irresistible  curiosity,  and  a  pride  in  their  own  courage. 
One  after  another  desperate  attempts  were  made,  and  it 
was  reached  at  last  by  another  Scot,  Alexander  Gordon 
Laing.  And  his  success  was  a  symbol  of  all  earthly 
endeavours,  for  the  golden  city  of  his  dreams  was  no 
more  than  a  poverty-stricken  village. 

One  by  one  Alec  studied  the  careers  of  these  great 
men;  and  he  saw  that  the  best  of  them  had  not  gone 
with  half  an  army  at  their  backs,  but  almost  alone, 
sometimes  with  not  a  single  companion,  and  had  de- 
pended for  their  success  not  upon  the  strength  of  their 
arms,  but  upon  the  strength  of  their  character.  Major 
Durham,  an  old  Peninsular  officer,  was  the  first  Euro- 
pean to  cross  the  Sahara.  Captain  Clapperton,  with 
his  servant,  Richard  Lander,  was  the  first  who  traversed 
Africa  from  the  Mediterranean  to  the  Guinea  Coast. 
And  he  died  at  his  journe/s  end.  And  there  was  some- 


THE    EXPLORER  47 

thing  fine  in  the  devotion  of  Richard  Lander,  the  faith- 
ful servant,  who  went  on  with  his  master's  work  and 
cleared  up  at  last  the  great  mystery  of  the  Niger.  And 
he,  too,  had  no  sooner  done  his  work  than  he  died,  near 
the  mouth  of  the  river  he  had  so  long  travelled  on,  of 
wounds  inflicted  by  the  natives.  There  was  not  one  of 
those  early  voyagers  who  escaped  with  his  life.  It  was 
the  work  of  desperate  men  that  they  undertook,  but 
there  was  no  recklessness  in  them.  They  counted  the 
cost  and  took  the  risk;  the  fascination  of  the  unknown 
was  too  great  for  them,  and  they  reckoned  death  as 
nothing  if  they  could  accomplish  that  on  which  they 
had  set  out. 

Two  men  above  all  attracted  Alec  MacKenzie's  in- 
terest. One  was  Eichard  Burton,  that  mighty,  enigma- 
tic man,  more  admirable  for  what  he  was  than  for  what 
he  did;  and  the  other  was  Livingstone,  the  greatest  of 
African  explorers.  There  was  something  very  touching 
in  the  character  of  that  gentle  Scot.  MacKenzie's  en- 
thusiasm was  seldom  very  strong,  but  here  was  a  man 
whom  he  would  willingly  have  known;  and  he  was 
strangely  affected  by  the  thought  of  his  lonely  death, 
and  his  grave  in  the  midst  of  the  Dark  Continent  he 
loved  so  well.  On  that,  too,  might  have  been  written 
the  epitaph  which  is  on  the  tomb  of  Sir  Christopher 
Wren. 

Finally  he  studied  the  works  of  Henry  M.  Stanley. 
Here  the  man  excited  neither  admiration  nor  affection, 
but  a  cold  respect.  No  one  could  help  recognising  the 
greatness  of  his  powers.  He  was  a  man  of  Napoleonic 
instinct,  who  suited  his  means  to  his  end,  and  ruthlessly 
fought  his  way  until  he  had  achieved  it.  His  books 
were  full  of  interest,  and  they  were  practical.  From 


48  THE    EXPLORER 

them  much  could  be  learned,  and  Alec  studied  them 
with  a  thoroughness  which  was  in  his  nature. 

When  he  arose  from  this  long  perusal,  his  mind  was 
made  up.  He  had  found  his  vocation. 

He  did  not  disclose  his  plans  to  any  of  his  friends 
till  they  were  mature,  and  meanwhile  set  about  seeing 
the  people  who  could  give  him  information.  At 
last  he  sailed  for  Zanzibar,  and  started  on  a  journey 
which  was  to  try  his  powers.  In  a  month  he  fell 
ill,  and  it  was  thought  at  the  mission  to  which  his 
bearers  brought  him  that  he  could  not  live.  For 
ten  weeks  he  was  at  death's  door,  but  he  would  not 
give  in  to  the  enemy.  He  insisted  in  the  end  on 
being  taken  back  to  the  coast,  and  here,  as  if  by  a 
personal  effort  of  will,  he  recovered.  The  season  had 
passed  for  his  expedition,  and  he  was  obliged  to  return 
to  England.  Most  men  would  have  been  utterly  dis- 
couraged, but  Alec  was  only  strengthened  in  his  deter- 
mination. He  personified  in  a  way  that  deadly  climate 
and  would  not  allow  himself  to  be  beaten  by  it.  His 
short  experience  had  shown  him  what  he  needed,  and 
as  soon  as  he  was  back  in  England  he  proceeded  to  ac- 
quire a  smattering  of  medical  knowledge,  and  some  ac- 
quaintance with  the  sciences  which  were  wanted  by  a 
traveller.  He  had  immense  powers  of  concentration, 
and  in  a  year  of  tremendous  labour  acquired  a  working 
knowledge  of  botany  and  geology,  and  the  elements  of 
surveying;  he  learnt  how  to  treat  the  maladies  which 
were  likely  to  attack  people  in  tropical  districts,  and 
enough  surgery  to  set  a  broken  limb  or  to  conduct  a 
simple  operation.  He  felt  himself  ready  now  for  a  con- 
siderable undertaking;  but  this  time  he  meant  to  start 
from  Mombassa. 


THE    EXPLORER  49 

So  far  Lucy  was  able  to  go,  partly  from  her  own 
imaginings,  and  partly  from  what  Dick  had  told  her. 
He  had  given  her  the  proceedings  of  the  Royal  Geo- 
graphical Society,  and  here  she  found  Alec  MacKen- 
zie's  account  of  his  wanderings  during  the  five  years 
that  followed.  The  countries  which  he  explored  then, 
became  afterwards  British  East  Africa. 

But  the  bell  rang  for  dinner,  and  so  interrupted  her 
meditations 


Ill 


THEY  played  bridge  immediately  afterwards.  Mrs. 
Crowley  looked  upon  conversation  as  a  fine  art,  which 
could  not  be  pursued  while  the  body  was  engaged  in  the 
process  of  digestion;  and  she  was  of  opinion  that  a 
game  of  cards  agreeably  diverted  the  mind  and  pre- 
pared the  intellect  for  the  quips  and  cranks  which 
might  follow  when  the  claims  of  the  body  were  satis- 
fied. Lucy  drew  Alec  MacKenzie  as  her  partner,  and 
so  was  able  to  watch  his  play  when  her  cards  were  on 
the  table.  He  did  not  play  lightly  as  did  Dick,  who 
kept  up  a  running  commentary  the  whole  time,  but 
threw  his  whole  soul  into  the  game  and  never  for  a 
moment  relaxed  his  attention.  He  took  no  notice  of 
Dick's  facetious  observations.  Presently  Lucy  grew 
more  interested  in  his  playing  than  in  the  game;  she 
was  struck,  not  only  by  his  great  gift  of  concentration, 
but  by  his  boldness.  He  had  a  curious  faculty  for 
knowing  almost  from  the  beginning  of  a  hand  where 
each  card  lay.  She  saw,  also,  that  he  was  plainly  most 
absorbed  when  he  was  playing  both  hands  himself; 
he  was  a  man  who  liked  to  take  everything  on  his  own 
shoulders,  and  the  division  of  responsibility  irritated 
him. 

At  the  end  of  the  rubber  Dick  flung  himself  back 
in  his  chair  irritably. 

'I  can't  make  it  out,'  he  cried.  'I  play  much 
better  than  you,  and  I  hold  better  hands,  and  yet  you 
get  the  tricks/ 


THE    EXPLORER  51 

Dick  was  known  to  be  an  excellent  player,  and  his 
annoyance  was  excusable. 

'We  didn't  make  a  single  mistake/  he  assured  his 
partner,  '  and  we  actually  had  the  odd  in  our  hands, 
but  not  one  of  our  finesses  came  off,  and  all  his  did/ 
He  turned  to  Alec.  '  How  the  dickens  did  you  guess 
I  had  those  two  queens  ? ' 

'  Because  I've  known  you  for  twenty  years/  answered 
Alec,  smiling.  '  I  know  that,  though  you're  impul- 
sive and  emotional,  you're  not  without  shrewdness;  I 
know  that  your  brain  acts  very  quickly  and  sees  all 
kinds  of  remote  contingencies;  then  you're  so  pleased 
at  having  noticed  them  that  you  act  as  if  they  were 
certain  to  occur.  Given  these  data,  I  can  tell  pretty 
well  what  cards  you  have,  after  they've  gone  round  two 
or  three  times/ 

'  The  knowledge  you  have  of  your  opponents'  cards 
is  too  uncanny/  said  Mrs.  Crowley. 

'  I  can  tell  a  good  deal  from  people's  faces.  You 
see,  in  Africa  I  have  had  a  lot  of  experience;  it's 
apparently  so  much  easier  for  the  native  to  lie  than 
to  tell  the  truth  that  you  get  into  the  habit  of  paying  no 
attention  to  what  he  says,  and  a  great  deal  to  the  way 
he  looks." 

While  Mrs.  Crowley  made  herself  comfortable  in 
the  chair,  which  she  had  already  chosen  as  her  fa- 
vourite, Dick  went  over  to  the  fire  and  stood  in  front 
of  it  in  such  a  way  as  effectually  to  prevent  the  others 
from  getting  any  of  its  heat. 

*  What  made  you  first  take  to  exploration  ?  '  asked 
Mrs.  Crowley  suddenly. 

Alec  gave  her  that  slow,  scrutinising  look  of  his,  and 
answered,  with  a  smile: 


52  THE    EXPLORER 

'  I  don't  know.  I  had  nothing  to  do  and  plenty  of 
money.' 

'  Not  a  bit  of  it,'  interrupted  Dick.  '  A  lunatic 
wanted  to  find  out  about  some  district  that  people  had 
never  been  to,  and  it  wouldn't  have  been  any  use  to 
them  if  they  had,  because,  if  the  natives  didn't  kill 
you,  the  climate  made  no  bones  about  it.  He  came 
back  crippled  with  fever,  having  failed  in  his  attempt, 
and,  after  asserting  that  no  one  could  get  into  the 
heart  of  Eofa's  country  and  return  alive,  promptly 
gave  up  the  ghost.  So  Alec  immediately  packed  up 
his  traps  and  made  for  the  place/ 

'  I  proved  the  man  was  wrong,'  said  Alec  quietly. 
'  I  became  great  friends  with  Eofa,  and  he  wanted  to 
marry  my  sister,  only  I  hadn't  one.' 

'  And  if  anyone  said  it  was  impossible  to  hop  through 
Asia  on  one  foot,  j^ou'd  go  and  do  it  just  to  show  it 
could  be  done,'  retorted  Dick  ( You  have  a  passion 
for  doing  things  because  they're  difficult  or  dangerous, 
and,  if  they're  downright  impossible,  you  chortle  with 
joy/ 

'  You  make  me  really  too  melodramatic,'  smiled  Alec. 

'  But  that's  just  what  you  are.  You're  the  most 
transpontine  person  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.'  Dick  turned 
to  Lucy  and  Mrs.  Crowley  with  a  wave  of  the  hand. 
'  I  call  you  to  witness.  When  he  was  at  Oxford,  Alec 
was  a  regular  dab  at  classics;  he  had  a  gift  for  writ- 
ing verses  in  languages  that  no  one  except  dons  wanted 
to  read,  and  everyone  thought  that  he  was  going  to  be 
the  most  brilliant  scholar  of  his  day/ 

'  This  is  one  of  Dick's  favourite  stories,'  said  Alec. 
'  It  would  be  quite  amusing  if  there  were  any  truth 
in  it/ 


THE    EXPLORER  53 

But  Dick  would  not  allow  himself  to  be  interrupted. 

(  At  mathematics,  on  the  other  hand,  he  was  a  per- 
fect ass.  You  know,  some  people  seem  to  have  that 
part  of  their  brains  wanting  that  deals  with  figures, 
and  Alec  couldn't  add  two  and  two  together  without 
making  a  hexameter  out  of  it.  One  day  his  tutor  got 
in  a  passion  with  him  and  said  he'd  rather  teach  arith- 
metic to  a  brick  wall.  I  happened  to  be  present,  and 
he  was  certainly  very  rude.  He  was  a  man  who  had  a 
precious  gift  for  making  people  feel  thoroughly  un- 
comfortable. Alec  didn't  say  anything,  but  he  looked 
at  him;  and,  when  he  flies  into  a  temper,  he  doesn't 
get  red  and  throw  things  about  like  a  pleasant,  normal 
person — he  merely  becomes  a  little  paler  and  stares 
at  you/ 

'  I  beg  you  not  to  believe  a  single  word  he  says,'  re- 
monstrated Alec. 

'  Well,  Alec  threw  over  his  classics.  Everyone  con- 
cerned reasoned  with  him;  they  appealed  to  his  com- 
mon sense;  they  were  appealing  to  the  most  obstinate 
fool  in  Christendom.  Alec  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  be  a  mathematician.  For  more  than  two  years  he 
worked  ten  hours  a  day  at  a  subject  he  loathed;  he 
threw  his  whole  might  into  it  and  forced  out  of  nature 
the  gifts  she  had  denied  him,  with  the  result  that  he 
got  a  first  class.  And  much  good  it's  done  him.' 

Alec  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'  It  wasn't  that  I  cared  for  mathematics,  but  it  taught 
me  to  conquer  the  one  inconvenient  word  in  the  Eng- 
lish language.' 

<  And  what  the  deuce  is  that? ' 

{ I'm  afraid  it  sounds  very  priggish,'  laughed  Alec. 
'  The  word  impossible.' 


54  THE    EXPLORER 

Dick  gave  a  little  snort  of  comic  rage. 

'  And  it  also  gave  you  a  ghastly  pleasure  in  doing 
things  that  hurt  you.  Oh,  if  you'd  only  been  born  in 
the  Middle  Ages,  what  a  fiendish  joy  you  would 
have  taken  in  mortifying  your  flesh,  and  in  denying 
yourself  everything  that  makes  life  so  good  to  live! 
You're  never  thoroughly  happy  unless  you're  making 
yourself  thoroughly  miserable.' 

'  Each  time  I  come  back  to  England  I  find  that  you 
talk  more  and  greater  nonsense,  Dick,'  returned  Alec 
drily. 

'  I'm  one  of  the  few  persons  now  alive  who  can  talk 
nonsense,'  answered  his  friend,  laughing.  •"  Thaf  s  why 
I'm  so  charming.  Everyone  else  is  so  deadly  earnest.' 

He  settled  himself  down  to  make  a  deliberate  speech. 

'  I  deplore  the  strenuousness  of  the  world  in  general. 
There  is  an  idea  abroad  that  it  is  praiseworthy  to  do 
things,  and  what  they  are  is  of  no  consequence  so  long 
as  you  do  them.  I  hate  the  mad  hurry  of  the  present 
day  to  occupy  itself.  I  wish  I  could  persuade  people 
of  the  excellence  of  leisure.' 

'  One  could  scarcely  accuse  you  of  cultivating  it 
yourself,'  said  Lucy,  smiling. 

Dick  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  thoughtfully. 

'  Do  you  know  that  I'm  hard  upon  forty  ?  ' 

'With  the  light  behind,  you  might  still  pass  for 
thirty-two/  interrupted  Mrs.  Crowley. 

He  turned  to  her  seriously. 

'  I  haven't  a  grey  hair  on  my  head.' 

'  I  suppose  your  servant  plucks  them  out  every  morn- 
ing?' 

'  Oh,  no,  very  rarely ;  one  a  month  at  the  outside.' 

'  I  think  I  see  one  just  beside  the  left  temple.' 


THE    EXPLORER  55 

He  turned  quickly  to  the  glass. 

'  Dear  me,  how  careless  of  Charles !  I  shall  have  to 
give  him  a  piece  of  my  mind.' 

'  Come  here,  and  let  me  take  it  out/  said  Mrs. 
Crowley. 

*  I  will  let  you  do  nothing  of  the  sort.  I  should  con- 
sider it  most  familiar.' 

'  You  were  giving  us  the  gratuitous  piece  of  informa- 
tion that  you  were  nearly  forty,'  said  Alec. 

'  The  thought  came  to  me  the  other  day  with  some- 
thing of  a  shock,  and  I  set  about  a  scrutiny  of  the  life 
I  was  leading.  I've  worked  at  the  bar  pretty  hard  for 
fifteen  years  now,  and  I've  been  in  the  House  since 
the  general  election.  I've  been  earning  two  thousand 
a  year,  I've  got  nearly  four  thousand  of  my  own,  and 
I've  never  spent  much  more  than  half  my  income.  I 
wondered  if  it  was  worth  while  to  spend  eight  hours  a 
day  settling  the  sordid  quarrels  of  foolish  people,  and 
another  eight  hours  in  the  farce  of  governing  the 
nation.' 

'  Why  do  you  call  it  that?  ' 

Dick  Lomas  shrugged  his  shoulders  scornfully. 

'  Because  it  is.  A  few  big-wigs  rule  the  roost,  and 
the  rest  of  us  are  only  there  to  delude  the  British  peo- 
ple into  the  idea  that  they're  a  self-governing  com- 
munity.' 

'  What  is  wrong  with  you  is  that  you  have  no  absorb- 
ing aim  in  politics,'  said  Alec  gravely. 

'  Pardon  me,  I  am  a  suffragist  of  the  most  vehement 
type,"  answered  Dick,  with  a  thin  smile. 

'  That's  the  last  thing  I  should  have  expected  you 
to  be,'  said  Mrs.  Crowley,  who  dressed  with  admirable 
taste.  '  Why  on  earth  have  you  taken  to  that  ? ' 


66  THE   EXPLORER 

Dick  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'No  one  can  have  been  through  a  parliamentary 
election  without  discovering  how  unworthy,  sordid,  and 
narrow  are  the  reasons  for  which  men  vote.  There  are 
very  few  who  are  alive  to  the  responsibilities  that  have 
been  thrust  upon  them.  They  are  indifferent  to  the 
importance  of  the  stakes  at  issue,  but  make  their  vote  a 
matter  of  ignoble  barter.  The  parliamentary  candidate 
is  at  the  mercy  of  faddists  and  cranks.  Now,  I  think 
that  women,  when  they  have  votes,  will  be  a  trifle  more 
narrow,  and  they  will  give  them  for  motives  that  are  a 
little  more  sordid  and  a  little  more  unworthy.  It  will 
reduce  universal  suffrage  to  the  absurd,  and  then  it 
may  be  possible  to  try  something  else/ 

Dick  had  spoken  with  a  vehemence  that  was  unusual 
to  him.  Alec  watched  him  with  a  certain  interest. 

'  And  what  conclusions  have  you  come  to  ?  ' 

For  a  moment  he  did  not  answer,  then  he  gave  a 
deprecating  smile. 

'  I  feel  that  the  step  I  want  to  take  is  momentous 
for  me,  though  I  am  conscious  that  it  can  matter 
to  nobody  else  whatever.  There  will  be  a  general  elec- 
tion in  a  few  months,  and  I  have  made  up  my  mind 
to  inform  the  whips  that  I  shall  not  stand  again.  I 
shall  give  up  my  chambers  in  Lincoln's  Inn,  put  up 
the  shutters,  so  to  speak,  and  Mr.  Eichard  Lomas  will 
retire  from  active  life.' 

'  You  wouldn't  really  do  that  ? '  cried  Mrs.  Crowley. 

*  Why  not?' 

'  In  a  month  complete  idleness  will  simply  bore  you 
to  death.' 

'  I  doubt  it.     Do  you  know,  it  seems  to  me  that  a 


THE    EXPLORER  57 

great  deal  of  nonsense  is  talked  about  the  dignity  of 
work.  Work  is  a  drug  that  dull  people  take  to  avoid 
the  pangs  of  unmitigated  boredom.  It  has  been  adorned 
with  fine  phrases,  because  it  is  a  necessity  to  most  men, 
and  men  always  gild  the  pill  they're  obliged  to  swallow. 
Work  is  a  sedative.  It  keeps  people  quiet  and  con- 
tented. It  makes  them  good  material  for  their  leaders. 
I  think  the  greatest  imposture  of  Christian  times  is 
the  sanctification  of  labour.  You  see,  the  early  Chris- 
tians were  slaves,  and  it  was  necessary  to  show  them 
that  their  obligatory  toil  was  noble  and  virtuous.  But 
when  all  is  said  and  done,  a  man  works  to  earn  his 
bread  and  to  keep  his  wife  and  children;  it  is  a  pain- 
ful necessity,  but  there  is  nothing  heroic  in  it.  If 
people  choose  to  put  a  higher  value  on  the  means 
than  on  the  end,  I  can  only  pass  with  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders,  and  regret  the  paucity  of  their  intelligence.' 

'  It's  really  unfair  to  talk  so  much  all  at  once/  said 
Mrs.  Crowley,  throwing  up  her  pretty  hands. 

But  Dick  would  not  be  stopped. 

'  For  my  part  I  have  neither  wife  nor  child,  and  I 
have  an  income  that  is  more  than  adequate.  Why 
should  I  take  the  bread  out  of  somebody  else's  mouth? 
And  it's  not  on  my  own  merit  that  I  get  briefs — men 
seldom  do — I  only  get  them  because  I  happen  to  have 
at  the  back  of  me  a  very  large  firm  of  solicitors.  And 
I  can  find  nothing  worthy  in  attending  to  these  foolish 
disputes.  In  most  cases  it's  six  of  one  and  half  a 
dozen  of  the  other,  and  each  side  is  very  unjust  and 
pig-headed.  No,  the  bar  is  a  fair  way  of  earning  your 
living  like  another,  but  it's  no  more  than  that;  and,  if 
you  can  exist  without,  I  see  no  reason  why  Quixotic 


58  THE    EXPLORER 

motives  of  the  dignity  of  human  toil  should  keep  you 
to  it.  I've  already  told  you  why  I  mean  to  give  up 
my  seat  in  Parliament.' 

'  Have  you  realised  that  you  are  throwing  over  a 
career  that  may  be  very  brilliant?  You  should  get 
an  under-secretaryship  in  the  next  government.' 

'  That  would  only  mean  licking  the  boots  of  a  few 
more  men  whom  I  despise.' 

'  It's  a  very  dangerous  experiment  that  you're  mak- 
ing/ 

Dick  looked  straight  into  Alec  MacKenzie's  eyes. 

*  And  is  it  you  who  counsel  me  not  to  make  it  on 
that  account  ? '  he  said,  smiling.  '  Surely  experiments 
are  only  amusing  if  they're  dangerous.' 

'  And  to  what  is  it  precisely  that  you  mean  to  devote 
your  time?'  asked  Mrs.  Crowley. 

'  I  should  like  to  make  idleness  a  fine  art,'  he  laughed. 
'  People,  nowadays,  turn  up  their  noses  at  the  dilettante. 
Well,  I  mean  to  be  a  dilettante.  I  want  to  devote 
myself  to  the  graces  of  life.  I'm  forty,  and  for  all  I 
know  I  haven't  so  very  many  years  before  me:  in  the 
time  that  remains,  I  want  to  become  acquainted  with 
the  world  and  all  the  graceful,  charming  things  it 
contains.' 

Alec,  fallen  into  deep  thought,  stared  into  the  fire. 
Presently  he  took  a  long  breath,  rose  from  his  chair, 
and  drew  himself  to  his  full  height. 

'  I  suppose  it's  a  life  like  another,  and  there  is  no 
one  to  say  which  is  better  and  which  is  worse.  But,  for 
my  part,  I  would  rather  go  on  till  I  dropped.  There 
are  ten  thousand  things  I  want  to  do.  If  I  had  ten 
lives  I  couldn't  get  through  a  tithe  of  what,  to  my 
mind,  so  urgently  needs  doing.' 


THE    EXPLORER  59 

'  And  what  do  you  suppose  will  be  the  end  of  it  ? ' 
asked  Dick. 

'For  me?' 

Dick  nodded,  but  did  not  otherwise  reply.  Alec 
smiled  faintly. 

'  Well,  I  suppose  the  end  of  it  will  be  death  in  some 
swamp,  obscurely,  worn  out  with  disease  and  exposure; 
and  my  bearers  will  make  off  with  my  guns  and  my 
stores,  and  the  jackals  will  do  the  rest/ 

'  I  think  it's  horrible/  said  Mrs.  Crowley,  with,  a 
shudder. 

'  I'm  a  fatalist.  I've  lived  too  long  among  people 
with  whom  it  is  the  deepest  rooted  article  of  their 
faith,  to  be  anything  else.  When  my  time  comes,  I 
cannot  escape  it.'  He  smiled  whimsically.  *  But  I 
believe  in  quinine,  too,  and  I  think  that  the  daily  use 
of  that  admirable  drug  will  make  the  thread  harder 
to  cut/ 

To  Lucy  it  was  an  admirable  study,  the  contrast 
between  the  man  who  threw  his  whole  soul  into  a  cer- 
tain aim,  which  he  pursued  with  a  savage  intensity, 
knowing  that  the  end  was  a  dreadful,  lonely  death ;  and 
the  man  who  was  making  up  his  mind  deliberately  to 
gather  what  was  beautiful  in  life,  and  to  cultivate  its 
graces  as  though  it  were  a  flower  garden. 

'  And  the  worst  of  it  is  that  it  will  all  be  the  same 
in  a  hundred  years/  said  Dick.  'We  shall  both  be 
forgotten  long  before  then,  you  with  your  strenuous- 
ness,  and  I  with  my  folly.' 

*  And  what  conclusion  do  you  draw  from  that  ?  '  asked 
Mrs.  Crowley. 

*  Only  that  the  psychological  moment  has  arrived  for 
a  whisky  and  soda.' 


THERE  was  some  rough  shooting  on  the  estate  which 
Mrs.  Crowley  had  rented,  and  next  day  Dick  went  out 
to  see  what  he  could  find.  Alec  refused  to  accompany 
him. 

'  I  think  shooting  in  England  bores  me  a  little,'  he 
said.  *  I  have  a  prejudice  against  killing  things  unless 
I  want  to  eat  them,  and  these  English  birds  are  so 
tame  that  it  seems  to  me  rather  like  shooting  chickens/ 

'  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it,'  said  Dick,  as  he  set 
out.  '  The  fact  is  that  you  can't  hit  anything  smaller 
than  a  hippopotamus,  and  you  know  that  there  is  noth- 
ing here  to  suit  you  except  Mrs.  Crowley's  cows.' 

After  luncheon  Alec  MacKenzie  asked  Lucy  if  she 
would  take  a  stroll  with  him.  She  was  much  pleased. 

'  Where  would  you  like  to  go  ? '  she  asked. 

*  Let  us  walk  by  the  sea.' 

She  took  him  along  a  road  called  Joy  Lane,  which 
ran  from  the  fishing  town  of  Blackstable  to  a  village 
called  Waveney.  The  sea  there  had  a  peculiar  vastness, 
and  the  salt  smell  of  the  breeze  was  pleasant  to  the 
senses.  The  flatness  of  the  marsh  seemed  to  increase 
the  distances  that  surrounded  them,  and  unconsciously 
Alec  fell  into  a  more  rapid  swing.  It  did  not  look  as 
if  he  walked  fast,  but  he  covered  the  ground  with  the 
steady  method  of  a  man  who  has  been  used  to  long 
journeys,  and  it  was  good  for  Lucy  that  she  was  ac- 
customed to  much  walking.  At  first  they  spoke  of 


THE    EXPLORER  61 

trivial  things,  but  presently  silence  fell  upon  them.  Lucy 
saw  that  he  was  immersed  in  thought,  and  she  did  not 
interrupt  him.  It  amused  her  that,  after  asking  her 
to  walk  with  him,  this  odd  man  should  take  no  pains 
to  entertain  her.  Now  and  then  he  threw  back  his 
head  with  a  strange,  proud  motion,  and  looked  out  to 
sea.  The  gulls,  with  their  melancholy  flight,  were 
skimming  upon  the  surface  of  the  water.  The  desola- 
tion of  that  scene — it  was  the  same  which,  a  few  days 
before,  had  rent  poor  Lucy's  heart — appeared  to  enter 
his  soul;  but,  strangely  enough,  it  uplifted  him,  filling 
him  with  exulting  thoughts.  He  quickened  his  pace, 
and  Lucy,  without  a  word,  kept  step  with  him.  He 
seemed  not  to  notice  where  they  walked,  and  presently 
she  led  him  away  from  the  sea.  They  tramped  along 
a  winding  road,  between  trim  hedges  and  fertile  fields; 
and  the  country  had  all  the  sweet  air  of  Kent,  with  its 
easy  grace  and  its  comfortable  beauty.  They  passed 
a  caravan,  with  a  shaggy  horse  browsing  at  the  way- 
side, and  a  family  of  dinglers  sitting  around  a  fire 
of  sticks.  The  sight  curiously  affected  Lucy.  The  wan- 
dering life  of  those  people,  with  no  ties  but  to  the 
ramshackle  carriage  which  was  their  only  home,  their 
familiarity  with  the  fields  and  with  strange  hidden 
places,  filled  her  with  a  wild  desire  for  freedom  and 
for  vast  horizons.  At  last  they  came  to  the  massive 
gates  of  Court  Leys.  An  avenue  of  elms  led  to  the 
house. 

{  Here  we  are/  said  Lucy,  breaking  the  long  silence. 

'  Already  ?  '  He  seemed  to  shake  himself.  '  I  have 
to  thank  you  for  a  pleasant  stroll,  and  we've  had  a  good 
talk,  haven't  we  ?  ' 

'  Have  we  ? '  she  laughed.     She  saw  his  look  of  sur- 


62  THE    EXPLORER 

prise.  '  For  two  hours  you've  not  vouchsafed  to  make 
an  observation.' 

'  I'm  so  sorry/  he  said,  reddening  under  his  tan. 
'  How  rude  you  must  have  thought  me !  I've  been  alone 
so  much  that  I've  got  out  of  the  way  of  behaving 
properly/ 

'  It  doesn't  matter  at  all/  she  smiled.  '  You  must 
talk  to  me  another  time.' 

She  was  subtly  flattered.  She  felt  that,  for  him,  it 
was  a  queer  kind  of  compliment  that  he  had  paid  her. 
Their  silent  walk,  she  did  not  know  why,  seemed  to 
have  created  a  bond  between  them;  and  it  appeared 
that  he  felt  it,  too,  for  afterwards  he  treated  her  with 
a  certain  intimacy.  He  seemed  to  look  upon  her  no 
longer  as  an  acquaintance,  but  as  a  friend. 

A  day  or  two  later,  Mrs.  Crowley  having  suggested 
that  they  should  drive  into  Tercanbury  to  see  the 
cathedral,  MacKenzie  asked  her  if  she  would  allow  him 
to  walk. 

He  turned  to  Lucy. 

'  I  hardly  dare  to  ask  if  you  will  come  with  me/  he 
said. 

'  It  would  please  me  immensely/ 

'  I  will  try  to  behave  better  than  last  time/ 

'  You  need  not/  she  smiled. 

Dick,  who  had  an  objection  to  walking  when  it 
was  possible  to  drive,  set  out  with  Mrs.  Crowley  in 
a  trap.  Alec  waited  for  Lucy.  She  went  round  to 
the  stable  to  fetch  a  dog  to  accompany  them,  and, 
as  she  came  towards  him,  he  looked  at  her.  Alec 
was  a  man  to  whom  most  of  his  fellows  were  ab- 
stractions. He  saw  them  and  talked  to  them,  not- 


THE    EXPLORER  63 

ing  their  peculiarities,  but  they  were  seldom  living 
persons  to  him.  They  were  shadows,  as  it  were,  that 
had  to  be  reckoned  with,  but  they  never  became  part 
of  himself.  And  it  came  upon  him  now  with  a  certain 
shock  of  surprise  to  notice  Lucy.  He  felt  suddenly  a 
new  interest  in  her.  He  seemed  to  see  her  for  the  first 
time,  and  her  rare  beauty  strangely  moved  him.  In 
her  serge  dress  and  her  gauntlets,  with  a  motor  cap 
and  a  flowing  veil,  a  stick  in  her  hand,  she  seemed  on  a 
sudden  to  express  the  country  through  which  for  the 
last  two  or  three  days  he  had  wandered.  He  felt  an  un- 
expected pleasure  in  her  slim  erectness  and  in  her 
buoyant  step.  There  was  something  very  charming 
in  her  blue  eyes. 

He  was  seized  with  a  great  desire  to  talk.  And, 
without  thinking  for  an  instant  that  what  concerned 
him  so  intensely  might  be  of  no  moment  to  her,  he 
began  forthwith  upon  the  subject  which  was  ever  at 
his  heart.  But  he  spoke  as  his  interest  prompted,  of 
each  topic  as  it  most  absorbed  him,  starting  with  what 
he  was  now  about  and  going  back  to  what  had  first  at- 
tracted his  attention  to  that  business;  then  telling 
his  plans  for  the  future,  and  to  make  them  clear,  finish- 
ing with  the  events  that  had  led  up  to  his  determina- 
tion. Lucy  listened  attentively,  now  and  then  asking 
a  question ;  and  presently  the  whole  matter  sorted  itself 
in  her  mind,  so  that  she  was  able  to  make  a  connected 
narrative  of  his  life  since  the  details  of  it  had  escaped 
from  Dick's  personal  observation. 

For  some  years  Alec  MacKenzie  had  travelled  in 
Africa  with  no  object  beyond  a  great  curiosity,  and 
no  ambition  but  that  of  the  unknown.  His  first  im- 


64.  THE   EXPLORER 

portant  expedition  had  been,  indeed,  occasioned  by  the 
failure  of  a  fellow-explorer.  He  had  undergone  the 
common  vicissitudes  of  African  travel,  illness  and  hun- 
ger, incredible  difficulties  of  transit  through  swamps 
that  seemed  never  ending,  and  tropical  forest  through 
which  it  was  impossible  to  advance  at  the  rate  of  more 
than  one  mile  a  day;  he  had  suffered  from  the  deser- 
tion of  his  bearers  and  the  perfidy  of  native  tribes. 
But  at  last  he  reached  the  country  which  had  been  the 
aim  of  his  journey.  He  had  to  encounter  then  a  sav- 
age king's  determined  hostility  to  the  white  man,  and 
hs  had  to  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  his  followers  who,  in 
abject  terror  of  the  tribe  he  meant  to  visit,  took  every 
opportunity  to  escape  into  the  bush.  The  barbarian 
chief  sent  him  a  warning  that  he  would  have  him  killed 
if  he  attempted  to  enter  his  capital.  The  rest  of  the 
story  Alec  told  with  an  apologetic  air,  as  if  he  were 
ashamed  of  himself,  and  he  treated  it  with  a  deprecat- 
ing humour  that  sought  to  minimise  both  the  danger 
he  had  run  and  the  courage  he  had  displayed.  On 
receiving  the  king's  message,  Alec  MacKenzie  took 
up  a  high  tone,  and  returned  the  answer  that  he 
would  come  to  the  royal  kraal  before  midday.  He 
wanted  to  give  the  king  no  time  to  recover  from  his 
astonishment,  and  the  messengers  had  scarcely  deliv- 
ered the  reply  before  he  presented  himself,  unarmed 
and  unattended. 

'  What  did  you  say  to  him  ? '  asked  Lucy. 

'  I  asked  him  what  the  devil  he  meant  by  sending  me 
such  an  impudent  message,'  smiled  Alec. 

'  Weren't  you  frightened  ?  '  said  Lucy. 

'  Yes/  he  answered. 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  and,   as  though  uncon- 


THE    EXPLORER  65 

sciously  he  were  calling  back  the  mood  which  had  then 
seized  him,  he  began  to  walk  more  slowly. 

'  You  see,  it  was  the  only  thing  to  do.  We'd  about 
come  to  the  end  of  our  food,  and  we  were  bound  to  get 
some  by  hook  or  by  crook.  If  we'd  shown  the  white 
feather  they  would  probably  have  set  upon  us  without 
more  ado.  My  own  people  were  too  frightened  to  make 
a  fight  of  it,  and  we  should  have  been  wiped  out  like 
sheep.  Then  I  had  a  kind  of  instinctive  feeling  that  it 
would  be  all  right.  I  didn't  feel  as  if  my  time  had 
come/ 

But,  notwithstanding,  for  three  hours  his  life  had 
hung  in  the  balance;  and  Lucy  understood  that  it  was 
only  his  masterful  courage  which  had  won  the  day  and 
turned  a  sullen,  suspicious  foe  into  a  warm  ally. 

He  achieved  the  object  of  his  expedition,  discovered 
a  new  species  of  antelope  of  which  he  was  able  to  bring 
back  to  the  Natural  History  Museum  a  complete  skele- 
ton and  two  hides;  took  some  geographical  observa- 
tions which  corrected  current  errors,  and  made  a  care- 
ful examination  of  the  country.  When  he  had  learnt 
all  that  was  possible,  still  on  the  most  friendly  terms 
with  the  ferocious  ruler,  he  set  out  for  Mombassa. 
He  reached  it  in  one  month  more  than  five  years  after 
he  had  left  it. 

The  results  of  this  journey  had  been  small  enough, 
but  Alec  looked  upon  it  as  his  apprenticeship.  He 
had  found  his  legs,  and  believed  himself  fit  for  much 
greater  undertakings.  He  had  learnt  how  to  deal  with 
natives,  and  was  aware  that  he  had  a  natural  influence 
over  them.  He  had  confidence  in  himself.  He  had 
surmounted  the  difficulties  of  the  climate,  and  felt 
himself  more  or  less  proof  against  fever  and  heat.  He 

6 


66  THE   EXPLORER 

returned  to  the  coast  stronger  than  he  had  ever  been 
in  his  life,  and  his  enthusiasm  for  African  travel  in- 
creased tenfold.  The  siren  had  taken  hold  of  him, 
and  no  escape  now  was  possible. 

He  spent  a  year  in  England,  and  then  went  back  to 
Africa.  He  had  determined  now  to  explore  certain 
districts  to  the  northeast  of  the  great  lakes.  They  were 
in  the  hinterland  of  British  East  Africa,  and  England 
had  a  vague  claim  over  them;  but  no  actual  occupa- 
tion had  taken  place,  and  they  formed  a  series  of  in- 
dependent states  under  Arab  emirs.  He  went  this 
time  with  a  roving  commission  from  the  government, 
and  authority  to  make  treaties  with  the  local  chief- 
tains. Spending  six  years  in  these  districts,  he  made  a 
methodical  survey  of  the  country,  and  was  able  to  pre- 
pare valuable  maps.  He  collected  an  immense  amount 
of  scientific  material.  He  studied  the  manners  and 
customs  of  the  inhabitants,  and  made  careful  observa- 
tions on  the  political  state.  He  found  the  whole  land 
distracted  with  incessant  warfare,  and  broad  tracts  of 
country,  fertile  and  apt  for  the  occupation  of  white 
men,  given  over  to  desolation.  It  was  then  that  he 
realised  the  curse  of  slave-raiding,  the  abolition  of 
which  was  to  become  the  great  object  of  his  future 
activity.  His  strength  was  small,  and,  anxious  not 
to  arouse  at  once  the  enmity  of  the  Arab  slavers,  he 
had  to  use  much  diplomacy  in  order  to  establish  him- 
self in  the  country.  He  knew  himself  to  be  an  object 
of  intense  suspicion,  and  he  could  not  trust  even  the 
petty  rulers  who  were  bound  to  him  by  ties  of  grati- 
tude and  friendship.  For  some  time  the  sultan  of  the 
most  powerful  state  kept  him  in  a  condition  bordering 
on  captivity,  and  at  one  period  his  life  was  for  a  year 


THE    EXPLORER  67 

in  the  greatest  danger.  He  never  knew  from  day  to 
day  whether  he  would  see  the  setting  of  the  sun.  The 
Arab,  though  he  treated  him  with  honour,  would  not 
let  him  go;  and,  at  last,  Alec,  seizing  an  opportunity 
when  the  sultan  was  engaged  in  battle  with  a  brother 
who  sought  to  usurp  his  sovereignty,  fled  for  his  life, 
abandoning  his  property,  and  saving  only  his  notes, 
his  specimens,  and  his  guns. 

When  MacKenzie  reached  England,  he  laid  before 
the  Foreign  Office  the  result  of  his  studies.  He  pointed 
out  the  state  of  anarchy  to  which  the  constant  slave- 
raiding  had  reduced  this  wealthy  country,  and  implored 
those  in  authority,  not  only  for  the  sake  of  humanity, 
but  for  the  prestige  of  the  country,  to  send  an  expedi- 
tion which  should  stamp  out  the  murderous  traffic. 
He  offered  to  accompany  this  in  any  capacity;  and, 
so  long  as  he  had  the  chance  of  assisting  in  a  righteous 
war,  agreed  to  serve  under  any  leader  they  chose.  His 
knowledge  of  the  country  and  his  influence  over  its 
inhabitants  were  indispensable.  He  guaranteed  that, 
if  they  gave  him  a  certain  number  of  guns  with  three 
British  officers,  the  whole  affair  could  be  settled  in  a 
year. 

But  the  government  was  crippled  by  the  Boer  War; 
and  though,  appreciating  the  strength  of  his  arguments, 
it  realised  the  necessity  of  intervention,  was  disinclined 
to  enter  upon  fresh  enterprises.  These  little  expedi- 
tions in  Africa  had  a  way  of  developing  into  much 
more  important  affairs  than  first  appeared.  They  had 
been  taught  bitter  lessons  before  now,  and  could  not 
risk,  in  the  present  state  of  things,  even  an  insignificant 
rebuff.  If  they  sent  out  a  small  party,  which  was  de- 
feated, it  would  be  a  great  blow  to  the  prestige  of  the 


68  THE    EXPLORER 

country  through  Africa — the  Arabs  would  carry  the 
news  to  India — and  it  would  be  necessary,  then,  to 
despatch  such  a  force  that  failure  was  impossible.  To 
supply  this  there  was  neither  money  nor  men. 

Alec  was  put  off  with  one  excuse  after  another.  To 
him  it  seemed  that  hindrances  were  deliberately  set 
in  his  way,  and  in  fact  the  relations  of  England  with 
the  rest  of  Europe  made  his  small  schemes  appear  an 
intolerable  nuisance.  At  length  he  was  met  with  a 
flat  refusal. 

But  Alec  MacKenzie  could  not  rest  with  this,  and 
opposition  only  made  him  more  determined  to  carry 
his  business  through.  He  understood  that  it  was  hard 
at  second  hand  to  make  men  realise  the  state  of  things 
in  that  distant  land.  But  he  had  seen  horrors  beyond 
description.  He  knew  the  ruthless  cruelty  of  the  slave- 
raiders,  and  in  his  ears  rang,  still,  the  cries  of  agony 
when  a  village  was  set  on  fire  and  attacked  by  the 
Arabs.  Not  once,  nor  twice,  but  many  times  he  had 
left  some  tiny  kraal  nestling  sweetly  among  its  fields  of 
maize,  an  odd,  savage  counterpart  to  the  country  ham- 
let described  in  prim,  melodious  numbers  by  the  gentle 
Goldsmith :  the  little  naked  children  were  playing  mer- 
rily; the  women  sat  in  groups  grinding  their  corn  and 
chattering;  the  men  worked  in  the  fields  or  lounged 
idly  about  the  hut  doors.  It  was  a  charming  scene. 
You  felt  that  here,  perhaps,  one  great  mystery  of  life 
had  been  solved;  for  happiness  was  on  every  face, 
and  the  mere  joy  of  living  was  a  sufficient  reason  for 
existence.  And,  when  he  returned,  the  village  was  a 
pile  of  cinders,  smoking  still;  here  and  there  were 
lying  the  dead  and  wounded ;  on  one  side  he  recognised 
a  chubby  boy  with  a  great  spear  wound  in  his  body; 


THE    EXPLORER  69 

on  another  was  a  woman  with  her  face  blown  away  by 
some  clumsy  gun;  and  there  a  man  in  the  agony  of 
death,  streaming  with  blood,  lay  heaped  upon  the 
ground  in  horrible  disorder.  And  the  rest  of  the  in- 
habitants had  been  hurried  away  pellmell  on  the  cruel 
journey  across  country,  brutally  treated  and  half 
starved,  till  they  could  be  delivered  into  the  hands  of 
the  slave  merchant. 

Alec  MacKenzie  went  to  the  Foreign  Office  once 
more.  He  was  willing  to  take  the  whole  business  on 
himself,  and  asked  only  for  a  commission  to  raise 
troops  at  his  own  expense.  Timorous  secretaries  did 
not  know  into  what  difficulties  this  determined  man 
might  lead  them,  and  if  he  went  with  the  authority 
of  an  official,  but  none  of  his  responsibilities,  he  might 
land  them  in  grave  complications.  The  spheres  of  in- 
fluence of  the  continental  powers  must  be  respected, 
and  at  this  time  of  all  others  it  was  necessary  to  be 
very  careful  of  national  jealousies.  Alec  MacKenzie 
was  told  that  if  he  went  he  must  go  as  a  private  person. 
No  help  could  be  given  him,  and  the  British  Govern- 
ment would  not  concern  itself,  even  indirectly,  with 
his  enterprise.  Alec  had  expected  the  reply  and  was 
not  dissatisfied.  If  the  government  would  not  under- 
take the  matter  itself,  he  preferred  to  manage  it  without 
the  hindrance  of  official  restraints.  And  so  this  soli- 
tary man  made  up  his  mind,  single  handed,  to  crush 
the  slave  traffic  in  a  district  larger  than  England,  and 
to  wage  war,  unassisted,  with  a  dozen  local  chieftaint 
and  against  twenty  thousand  fighting  men  The  at- 
tempt seemed  Quixotic,  but  Alec  had  examined  the  risks 
and  was  willing  to  take  them.  He  had  on  his  side 
a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  country,  a  natural  power 


70  THE   EXPLORER 

over  the  natives,  and  some  skill  in  managing  them. 
He  was  accustomed  now  to  the  diplomacy  which  was 
needful,  and  he  was  well  acquainted  with  the  local 
politics. 

He  did  not  think  it  would  be  hard  to  collect  a 
force  on  the  coast,  and  there  were  plenty  of  hardy, 
adventurous  fellows  who  would  volunteer  to  officer  the 
native  levies,  if  he  had  money  to  pay  them.  Heady 
money  was  essential,  so  he  crossed  the  Atlantic  and 
sDld  his  estate  in  Texas ;  he  made  arrangements 
to  raise  a  further  sum,  if  necessary,  on  the  income 
which  his  colliery  in  Lancashire  brought  him.  He 
engaged  a  surgeon,  whom  he  bad  known  for  some  years, 
and  could  trust  in  an  emergency,  and  then  sailed  for 
Zanzibar,  where  he  expected  to  find  white  men  willing 
to  take  service  under  him.  At  Mombassa  he  collected 
the  bearers  who  had  been  with  him  during  his  previous 
expeditions,  and,  his  fame  among  the  natives  being 
widely  spread,  he  was  able  to  take  his  pick  of  those 
best  suited  for  his  purpose.  His  party  consisted  alto- 
gether of  over  three  hundred. 

When  he  arrived  upon  the  scene  of  his  operations, 
everything  for  a  time  went  well.  He  showed  great 
skill  in  dividing  his  enemies.  The  petty  rulers  were 
filled  with  jealousy  of  one  another  and  eager  always 
to  fall  upon  their  friends,  when  slave-raiding  for  a  sea- 
son was  unsuccessful.  Alec's  plan  was  to  join  two  or 
three  smaller  states  in  an  attack  upon  the  most  power- 
ful of  them  all,  to  crush  this  completely,  and  then 
to  take  his  old  allies  one  by  one,  if  they  would  not 
guarantee  to  give  up  their  raids  on  peaceful  tribes. 
His  influence  with  the  natives  was  such  that  he  felt 
certain  it  was  possible  to  lead  them  into  action  against 


THE    EXPLORER  71 

their  dreaded  foes,  the  Arabs,  if  he  was  once  able  to 
give  them  confidence.  Everything  turned  out  as  he 
had  hoped. 

The  great  state  which  had  aimed  at  the  hegemony 
of  the  whole  district  was  defeated;  and  Alec,  with 
the  method  habitual  to  him,  set  about  organising  each 
strip  of  territory  which  was  reclaimed  from  barbar- 
ism. He  was  able  to  hold  in  check  the  emirs  who 
had  fought  with  him,  and  a  sharp  lesson  given  to  one 
who  had  broken  faith  with  him,  struck  terror  in  the 
others.  The  land  was  regaining  its  old  security.  Alec 
trusted  that  in  five  years  a  man  would  be  able  to  travel 
from  end  to  end  of  it  as  safely  as  in  England.  But 
suddenly  everything  he  had  achieved  was  undone.  As 
sometimes  happens  in  countries  of  small  civilisation,  a 
leader  arose  from  among  the  Arabs.  None  knew  from 
where  he  sprang,  and  it  was  said  that  he  had  been  a 
camel  driver.  He  was  called  Mohammed  the  Lame, 
because  a  leg  badly  set  after  a  fracture  had  left  him 
halting,  and  he  was  a  shrewd  man,  far-seeing,  ruth- 
less, and  ambitious.  With  a  few  companions  as  des- 
perate as  himself,  he  attacked  the  capital  of  a  small 
state  in  the  North  which  was  distracted  by  the 
death  of  its  ruler,  seized  it,  and  proclaimed  himself 
king. 

In  a  year  he  had  brought  under  his  sway  all  those 
shadowy  lands  which  border  upon  Abyssinia,  and  was 
leading  a  great  rabble,  mad  with  the  lust  of  conquest, 
fanatic  with  hatred  of  the  Christian,  upon  the  South. 
Consternation  reigned  among  the  tribes  to  whom  Mac- 
Kenzie  was  the  only  hope  of  salvation.  He  pointed 
out  to  the  Arabs  who  had  accepted  his  influence,  that 
their  safety,  as  well  as  his,  lay  in  resistance  to  the 


72  THE    EXPLORER 

Lame  One;  but  the  war  cry  of  the  Prophet  prevailed 
against  the  call  of  reason,  and  he  found  that  they 
were  against  him  to  a  man.  His  native  allies  were 
faithful,  with  the  fidelity  of  despair,  and  these  he 
brought  up  against  the  enemy.  A  pitched  battle  was 
fought,  but  the  issue  was  undecided.  The  losses  were 
great  on  both  sides,  and  Alec  was  himself  badly 
wounded. 

Fortunately  the  wet  season  was  approaching,  and 
Mohammed  the  Lame,  with  a  wholesome  respect  for 
the  white  man  who  for  the  moment,  at  least,  had 
checked  his  onward  course,  withdrew  to  the  Northern 
regions  where  his  power  was  more  secure.  Alec  knew 
that  he  would  resume  the  attack  at  the  first  opportunity, 
and  he  knew  also  that  he  had  not  the  means  to  with- 
stand a  foe  who  was  astute  and  capable.  His  only 
chance  was  to  get  back  to  the  coast,  return  to  England, 
and  try  again  to  interest  the  government  in  the  under- 
taking; if  they  still  refused  help  he  determined  to  go 
out  once  more  himself,  taking  this  time  Maxim  guns 
and  men  capable  of  handling  them.  He  knew  that 
his  departure  would  seem  like  flight,  but  he  could 
not  help  that.  He  was  obliged  to  go.  His  wound 
prevented  him  from  walking,  but  he  caused  him- 
self to  be  carried;  and,  firing  his  caravan  with  his 
own  indomitable  spirit,  he  reached  the  coast  by  forced 
marches. 

His  brief  visit  to  England  was  already  drawing  to 
its  close,  and,  in  less  than  a  month  now,  he  proposed 
to  set  out  for  Africa  once  more.  This  time  he  meant 
to  finish  the  work.  If  only  his  life  were  spared,  he 
would  crush  for  ever  the  infamous  trade  which  turned 
a  paradise  into  a  wilderness. 


THE    EXPLORER  73 

Alec  stopped  speaking  as  they  entered  the  cathedral 
close,  and  they  paused  for  a  moment  to  look  at  the 
stately  pile.  The  trim  lawns  that  surrounded  it,  in 
a  manner  enhanced  its  serene  majesty.  They  entered 
the  nave.  There  was  a  vast  and  solemn  stillness.  And 
there  was  something  subtly  impressive  in  the  naked 
space;  it  uplifted  the  heart,  and  one  felt  a  kind  of 
scorn  for  all  that  was  mean  and  low.  The  soaring  of 
the  Gothic  columns,  with  their  straight  simplicity, 
raised  the  thoughts  to  a  nobler  standard.  And,  though 
that  place  had  been  given  for  three  hundred  years  to 
colder  rites,  the  atmosphere  of  an  earlier,  more  splen- 
did faith  seemed  still  to  cling  to  it.  A  vague  odour 
of  a  spectral  incense  hung  about  the  pillars,  a  sweet, 
sad  smell,  and  the  shadows  of  ghostly  priests  in  vest- 
ments of  gold,  and  with  embroidered  copes,  wound  in 
a  long  procession  through  the  empty  aisles. 

Lucy  was  glad  that  they  had  come  there,  and  the 
restful  grandeur  of  the  place  fitted  in  with  the  emo- 
tions that  had  filled  her  mind  during  the  walk  from 
Blackstable.  Her  spirit  was  enlarged,  and  she  felt 
that  her  own  small  worries  were  petty.  The  conscious- 
ness came  to  her  that  the  man  with  whom  she  had  been 
speaking  was  making  history,  and  she  was  fascinated 
by  the  fulness  of  his  life  and  the  greatness  of  his 
undertakings.  Her  eyes  were  dazzled  with  the  torrid 
African  sun  which  had  shone  through  his  words,  and 
she  felt  the  horror  of  the  primeval  forest  and  the  misery 
of  the  unending  swamps.  And  she  was  proud  because 
his  outlook  was  so  clear,  because  he  bore  his  responsi- 
bilities so  easily,  because  his  plans  were  so  vast.  She 
looked  at  him.  He  was  standing  by  her  side,  and  his 
eyes  were  upon  her.  She  felt  the  colour  rise  to  her 


74  THE    EXPLORER 

cheeks,  she  knew  not  why,  and  in  embarrassment  looked 
down. 

By  some  chance  they  missed  Dick  Lomas  and  Mrs. 
Crowley.  Neither  was  sorry.  When  they  left  the  ca- 
thedral and  started  for  home,  they  spoke  for  a  while 
of  indifferent  things.  It  seemed  that  Alec's  tongue 
was  loosened,  and  he  was  glad  of  it.  Lucy  knew  in- 
stinctively that  he  had  never  talked  to  anyone  as  he 
talked  to  her,  and  she  was  curiously  flattered. 

But  it  seemed  to  both  of  them  that  the  conversation 
could  not  proceed  on  the  strenuous  level  on  which  it 
had  been  during  the  walk  into  Tercanbury,  and  they 
fell  upon  a  gay  discussion  of  their  common  acquaint- 
ance. Alec  was  a  man  of  strong  passions,  hating  fools 
fiercely,  and  he  had  a  sardonic  manner  of  gibing  at 
persons  he  despised,  which  caused  Lucy  much  amuse- 
ment. 

He  described  interviews  with  the  great  ones  of 
the  land  in  a  broadly  comic  spirit;  and,  when  telling 
an  amusing  story,  he  had  a  way  of  assuming  a  Scot- 
tish drawl  that  added  vastly  to  its  humour. 

Presently  they  began  to  speak  of  books.  Being 
strictly  limited  as  to  number,  he  was  obliged  to  choose 
for  his  expeditions  works  which  could  stand  reading 
an  indefinite  number  of  times. 

'  Fm  like  a  convict/  he  said.  '  I  know  Shakespeare 
by  heart,  and  I've  read  Boswell's  Johnson  till  I  think 
you  couldn't  quote  a  line  which  I  couldn't  cap  with  the 
next/ 

But  Lucy  was  surprised  to  hear  that  he  read  the 
Greek  classics  with  enthusiasm.  She  had  vaguely  im- 
agined that  people  recognised  their  splendour,  but  did 
not  read  them  unless  they  were  dons  or  schoolmasters, 


THE    EXPLORER  75 

and  it  was  strange  to  find  anyone  for  whom  they  were 
living  works.  To  Alec  they  were  a  deliberate  inspira- 
tion. They  strengthened  his  purpose  and  helped 
him  to  see  life  from  the  heroic  point  of  view.  He  was 
not  a  man  who  cared  much  for  music  or  for  painting; 
his  whole  aesthetic  desires  were  centred  in  the  Greek 
poets  and  the  historians.  To  him  Thucydides  was  a 
true  support,  and  he  felt  in  himself  something  of  the 
spirit  which  had  animated  the  great  Athenian.  His 
blood  ran  faster  as  he  spoke  of  him,  and  his  cheeks 
flushed.  He  felt  that  one  who  lived  constantly  in 
such  company  could  do  nothing  base.  But  he  found  all 
he  needed,  put  together  with  a  power  that  seemed 
almost  divine,  within  the  two  covers  that  bound  his 
Sophocles.  The  mere  look  of  the  Greek  letters  filled  him 
with  exultation.  Here  was  all  he  wanted,  strength 
and  simplicity,  and  the  greatness  of  life,  and  beauty. 

He  forgot  that  Lucy  did  not  know  that  dead  lan- 
guage and  could  not  share  his  enthusiasm.  He  broke 
suddenly  into  a  chorus  from  the  Antigone:  the  sonor- 
ous, lovely  words  issued  from  his  lips,  and  Lucy,  not 
understanding,  but  feeling  vaguely  the  beauty  of  the 
sounds,  thought  that  his  voice  had  never  been  more 
fascinating.  It  gained  now  a  peculiar  and  entrancing 
softness.  She  had  never  dreamed  that  it  was  capable 
of  such  tenderness. 

At  last  they  reached  Court  Leys  and  walked  up  the 
avenue  that  led  to  the  house.  They  saw  Dick  hurry- 
ing towards  them.  They  waved  their  hands,  but  he  did 
not  reply,  and,  when  he  approached,  they  saw  that  his 
face  was  white  and  anxious. 

*  Thank  God,  you've  come  at  last !  I  couldn't  make 
out  what  had  come  to  you.' 


76  THE   EXPLORER 

1  What's  the  matter  ?  ' 

The  barrister,  all  his  flippancy  gone,  turned  to 
Lucy. 

*  Bobbie  Boulger  has  come  down.  He  wants  to  see 
you.  Please  come  at  once/ 

Lucy  looked  at  him  quickly.  Sick  with  fear,  she 
followed  him  into  the  drawing-room. 


MRS.  CEOWLEY  and  Eobert  Boulger  were  standing  by 
the  fire,  and  there  was  a  peculiar  agitation  about  them. 
They  were  silent,  but  it  seemed  to  Lucy  that  they  had 
been  speaking  of  her.  Mrs.  Crowley  impulsively  seized 
her  hands  and  kissed  her.  Lucy's  first  thought  was  that 
something  had  happened  to  her  brother.  Lady  Reiser's 
generous  allowance  had  made  it  possible  for  him  to 
hunt,  and  the  thought  flashed  through  her  that  some 
terrible  accident  had  happened. 

'Is  anything  the  matter  with  George?'  she  asked, 
with  a  gasp  of  terror. 

1  Xo,'  answered  Boulger. 

The  colour  came  to  Lucy's  cheeks  as  she  felt  a  sud- 
den glow  of  relief. 

'  Thank  God,'  she  murmured.    '  I  was  so  frightened.' 

She  gave  him,  now,  a  smile  of  welcome  as  she  shook 
hands  with  him.  It  could  be  nothing  so  very  dreadful 
after  all. 

Lucy's  uncle,  Sir  George  Boulger,  had  been  for  many 
years  senior  partner  in  the  great  firm  of  Boulger  & 
Kelsey.  After  sitting  in  Parliament  for  the  quarter  of 
a  century  and  voting  assiduously  for  his  party,  he  had 
been  given  a  baronetcy  on  the  celebration  of  Queen 
Victoria's  second  Jubilee,  and  had  finished  a  prosper- 
ous life  by  dying  of  apoplexy  at  the  opening  of  a  park, 
which  he  was  presenting  to  the  nation.  He  had  been 
a  fine  type  of  the  wealthy  merchant,  far-sighted  in  busi- 
ness affairs  and  proud  to  s«rve  his  native  city  in  every 

T7 


78  THE   EXPLORER 

way  open  to  him.  His  son,  Robert,  now  reigned  in  his 
stead,  but  the  firm  had  been  made  into  a  company,  and 
the  responsibility  that  he  undertook,  notwithstanding 
that  the  greater  number  of  shares  were  in  his  hands, 
was  much  less.  The  partner  who  had  been  taken  into 
the  house  on  Sir  Alfred  Kelsey's  death  now  managed 
the  more  important  part  of  the  business  in  Manchester, 
while  Eobert,  brought  up  by  his  father  to  be  a  man  of 
affairs,  had  taken  charge  of  the  London  branch.  Com- 
merce was  in  his  blood,  and  he  settled  down  to  work 
with  praiseworthy  energy.  He  had  considerable  shrewd- 
ness, and  it  was  plain  that  he  would  eventually  be- 
come as  good  a  merchant  as  his  father.  He  was  little 
older  than  Lucy,  but  his  fair  hair  and  his  clean-shaven 
face  gave  him  a  more  youthful  look.  With  his  spruce 
air  and  well-made  clothes,  his  conversation  about  hunt- 
ing and  golf,  few  would  have  imagined  that  he  arrived 
regularly  at  his  office  at  ten  in  the  morning,  and  was 
as  keen  to  make  a  good  bargain  as  any  of  the  men  he 
came  in  contact  with. 

Lucy,  though  very  fond  of  him,  was  mildly  scorn- 
ful of  his  Philistine  outlook.  He  cared  nothing  for 
books,  and  the  only  form  of  art  that  appealed  to  him 
was  the  musical  comedy.  She  treated  him  as  a  rule  with 
pleasant  banter  and  refused  to  take  him  seriously.  It 
required  a  good  deal  of  energy  to  keep  their  friendship 
on  a  light  footing,  for  she  knew  that  he  had  been  in  love 
with  her  since  he  was  eighteen.  She  could  not  help 
feeling  flattered,  though  on  her  side  there  was  no  more 
than  the  cousinly  affection  due  to  their  having  been 
thrown  together  all  their  lives,  and  she  was  aware  that 
they  were  little  suited  to  one  another.  He  had  pro- 
posed to  her  a  dozen  times,  and  she  was  obliged 


THE    EXPLORER  79 

to  use  many  devices  to  protect  herself  from  his  as- 
siduity. It  availed  nothing  to  tell  him  that  she  did  not 
love  him.  He  was  only  too  willing  to  marry  her  on 
whatever  conditions  she  chose  to  make,  Her  friends 
and  her  relations  were  anxious  that  she  should  accept 
him.  Lady  Kelsey  had  reasoned  with  her.  Here  was 
a  man  whom  she  had  known  always  and  could  trust 
utterly;  he  had  ten  thousand  a  year,  an  honest  heart, 
and  a  kindly  disposition.  Her  father,  seeing  in  the 
match  a  resource  in  his  constant  difficulties,  was  eager 
that  she  should  take  the  boy,  and  George,  who  was 
devoted  to  him,  had  put  in  his  word,  too.  Bobbie  had 
asked  her  to  marry  him  when  he  was  twenty-one,  and 
again  when  she  was  twenty-one,  when  George  went  to 
Oxford,  when  her  father  went  into  bankruptcy,  and 
when  Hamlyn's  Purlieu  was  sold.  He  had  urged  his 
own  father  to  buy  it,  when  it  was  known  that  a  sale  was 
inevitable,  hoping  that  the  possession  of  it  would  in- 
cline Lucy's  heart  towards  him;  but  the  first  baronet 
was  too  keen  a  man  of  business  to  make  an  unprofitable 
investment  for  sentimental  reasons.  Bobbie  had  pro- 
posed for  the  last  time  when  he  succeeded  to  the 
baronetcy  and  a  large  fortune.  Lucy  recognised  his 
goodness  and  the  advantages  of  the  match,  but  she  did 
not  care  for  him.  She  felt,  too,  that  she  needed  a  free 
hand  to  watch  over  her  father  and  George.  Even  Mrs. 
Crowley's  suggestion  that  with  her  guidance  Robert 
Boulger  might  become  a  man  of  consequence,  did  not 
move  her.  Bobbie,  on  the  other  hand,  had  set  all  his 
heart  on  marrying  his  cousin.  It  was  the  supreme 
interest  of  his  life,  and  he  hoped  that  his  patience  would 
eventually  triumph  over  every  obstacle.  He  was  willing 
to  wait. 


80  THE    EXPLORER 

When  Lucy's  first  alarm  was  stayed,  it  occurred  to 
her  that  Bobbie  had  come  once  more  to  ask  her  the 
eternal  question,  but  the  anxious  look  in  his  eyes  drove 
the  idea  away.  His  pleasant,  boyish  expression  was 
overcast  with  gravity;  Mrs.  Crowley  flung  herself  in 
a  chair  and  turned  her  face  away. 

( I  have  something  to  tell  you  which  is  very  terrible, 
Lucy,'  he  said. 

The  effort  he  made  to  speak  was  noticeable.  His 
voice  was  strained  by  the  force  with  which  he  kept  it 
steady. 

'  Would  you  like  me  to  leave  you  ? '  asked  Alec,  who 
had  accompanied  Lucy  into  the  drawing-room. 

She  gave  him  a  glance.  It  seemed  to  her  that  what- 
ever it  was,  his  presence  would  help  her  to  bear  it. 

*  Do  you  wish  to  see  me  alone,  Bobbie  ? ' 

'  I've  already  told  Dick  and  Mrs.  Crowley/ 

'  What  is  it  ?  '  she  asked. 

Bobbie  gave  Dick  an  appealing  look.  It  seemed 
too  hard  that  he  should  have  to  break  the  awful  news 
to  her.  He  had  not  the  heart  to  give  her  so  much  pain. 
And  yet  he  had  hurried  down  to  the  country  so  that 
he  might  soften  the  blow  by  his  words:  he  would  not 
trust  to  the  callous  cruelty  of  a  telegram.  Dick  saw 
the  agitation  which  made  his  good-humoured  mouth 
twitch  with  pain,  and  stepped  forward. 

*  Your  father  has  been  arrested  for  fraud,'  he  said 
gravely. 

For  a  moment  no  one  spoke.  The  silence  was  intol- 
erable to  Mrs.  Crowley,  and  she  inveighed  inwardly 
against  the  British  stolidity.  She  could  not  look  at 
Lucy,  but  the  others,  full  of  sympathy,  kept  their  eyes 
upon  her.  Mrs.  Crowley  wondered  why  she  did  not 


THE    EXPLORER  81 

faint.  It  seemed  to  Lucy  that  an  icy  hand  clutched 
her  heart  so  that  the  blood  was  squeezed  out  of  it.  She 
made  a  determined  effort  to  keep  her  clearness  of 
mind. 

'  It's  impossible/  she  said  at  last,  quietly. 

'  He  was  arrested  last  night,  and  brought  up  at  Bow 
Street  Police  Court  this  morning.  He  was  remanded 
for  a  week/ 

Lucy  felt  the  tears  well  up  to  her  eyes,  but  with  all 
her  strength  she  forced  them  back.  She  collected  her 
thoughts. 

*  It  was  very  good  of  you  to  come  down  and  tell 
me,'  she  said  to  Boulger  gently. 

*  The  magistrate  agreed  to  accept  bail  in  five  thou- 
sand pounds.     Aunt  Alice  and  I  have  managed  it  be- 
tween us.' 

'  Is  he  staying  with  Aunt  Alice  now  ? ' 

'  No,  he  wouldn't  do  that.  He's  gone  to  his  flat  in 
Shaftesbury  Avenue.' 

Lucy's  thoughts  went  to  the  lad  who  was  dearest  to 
her  in  the  world,  and  her  heart  sank. 

'  Does  George  know  ?  '' 

'  Not  yet.' 

Dick  saw  the  relief  that  came  into  her  face,  and 
thought  he  divined  what  was  in  her  mind. 

*  But  he  must  be  told  at  once,'  he  said.    '  He's  sure 
to  see  something  about  it  in  the  papers.    We  had  better 
wire  to  him  to  come  to  London  immediately/ 

'  Surely  father  could  have  shown  in  two  minutes 
that  the  whole  thing  was  a  mistake/ 

Bobbie  made  a  hopeless  gesture.  He  saw  the  stern- 
ness of  her  eyes,  and  he  had  not  the  heart  to  tell  her 
the  truth.  Mrs.  Crowley  began  to  cry. 

6 


82  THE    EXPLORER 

*  You   don't  understand,    Lucy,'   said   Dick.     '  I'm 
afraid  it's  a  very  serious  charge.     Your  father  will  be 
committed  for  trial/ 

'  You  know  just  as  well  as  I  do  that  father  can't 
have  done  anything  illegal.  He's  weak  and  rash,  but 
he's  no  more  than  that.  He  would  as  soon  think  of 
doing  anything  wrong  as  of  flying  to  the  moon.  If  in 
his  ignorance  of  business  he's  committed  some  technical 
offence,  he  can  easily  show  that  it  was  unintentional.' 

'  Whatever  it  is,  he'll  have  to  stand  his  trial  at  the 
Old  Bailey,'  answered  Dick  gravely. 

He  saw  that  Lucy  did  not  for  a  moment  appreciate 
the  gravity  of  her  father's  position.  After  the  first 
shock  of  dismay  she  was  disposed  to  think  that  there 
could  be  nothing  in  it.  Robert  Boulger  saw  there  was 
nothing  for  it  but  to  tell  her  everything. 

'  Your  father  and  a  man  called  Saunders  have  been 
running  a  bucketshop  under  the  name  of  Vernon  and 
Lawford.  They  were  obliged  to  trade  under  different 
names,  because  Uncle  Fred  is  an  undischarged  bank- 
rupt, and  Saunders  is  the  sort  of  man  who  only  uses 
his  own  name  on  the  charge  sheet  of  a  police  court.' 

*  Do  you  know  what  a  bucketshop  is,  Lucy  ? '  asked 
Dick. 

He  did  not  wait  for  a  reply,  but  explained  that  it 
was  a  term  used  to  describe  a  firm  of  outside  brokers 
whose  dealings  were  more  or  less  dishonest. 

'  The  action  is  brought  against  the  pair  of  them  by 
a  Mrs.  Sabidon,  who  accuses  them  of  putting  to  their 
own  uses  various  sums  amounting  altogether  to  more 
than  eight  thousand  pounds,  which  she  intrusted  to 
them  to  invest.' 

Now  that  the  truth  was  out,  Lucy  quailed  before  it. 


THE    EXPLORER  83 

The  intense  seriousness  on  the  faces  of  Alec  and  Dick 
Lomas,  the  piteous  anxiety  of  her  cousin,  terrified  her. 

*  You  don't  think  there's  anything  in  it  ? '  she  asked 
quickly. 

Robert  did  not  know  what  to  answer.  Dick  inter- 
rupted with  wise  advice. 

*  We'll  hope  for  the  best.     The  only  thing  to  do  is 
to  go  up  to  London  at  once  and  get  the  best  legal 
advice.' 

But  Lucy  would  not  allow  herself,  even  for  a  mo- 
ment, to  doubt  her  father.  Now  that  she  thought  of 
the  matter,  she  saw  that  it  was  absurd.  She  forced 
herself  to  give  a  laugh. 

'  I'm  quite  reassured.  You  don't  think  for  a  moment 
that  father  would  deliberately  steal  somebody  else's 
money.  And  it's  nothing  short  of  theft.' 

'  At  all  events  it's  something  that  we've  been  able 
to  get  him  released  on  bail.  It  will  make  it  so  much 
easier  to  arrange  the  defence.' 

A  couple  of  hours  later  Lucy,  accompanied  by  Dick 
Lomas  and  Bobbie,  was  on  her  way  to  London.  Alec, 
thinking  his  presence  would  be  a  nuisance  to  them, 
arranged  with  Mrs.  Crowley  to  leave  by  a  later  train; 
and,  when  the  time  came  for  him  to  start,  his  hostess 
suddenly  announced  that  she  would  go  with  him.  With 
her  party  thus  broken  up  and  her  house  empty,  she 
could  not  bear  to  remain  at  Court  Leys.  She  was 
anxious  about  Lucy  and  eager  to  be  at  hand  if  her 
help  were  needed. 

A  telegram  had  been  sent  to  George,  and  it  was  sup- 
posed that  he  would  arrive  at  Lady  Kelsey's  during  the 
evening.  Lucy  wanted  to  tell  him  herself  what  had 


8*  THE    EXPLORER 

happened.  But  she  could  not  wait  till  then  to  see 
her  father,  and  persuaded  Dick  to  drive  with  her  from 
the  station  to  Shaftesbury  Avenue.  Fred  Allerton  was 
not  in.  Lucy  wanted  to  go  into  the  flat  and  stay 
there  till  he  came,  but  the  porter  had  no  key  and  did 
not  know  when  he  would  return.  Dick  was  much  re- 
lieved. He  was  afraid  that  the  excitement  and  the 
anxiety  from  which  Fred  Allerton  had  suffered,  would 
have  caused  him  to  drink  heavily;  and  he  could  not 
let  Lucy  see  him  the  worse  for  liquor.  He  induced 
her,  after  leaving  a  note  to  say  that  she  would  call 
early  next  morning,  to  go  quietly  home.  When  they 
arrived  at  Charles  Street,  where  was  Lady  Kelsey's 
house,  they  found  a  wire  from  George  to  say  he  could 
not  get  up  to  town  till  the  following  day. 

To  Lucy  this  had,  at  least,  the  advantage  that  she 
could  see  her  father  alone,  and  at  the  appointed  hour 
she  made  her  way  once  more  to  his  flat.  He  took  her 
in  his  arms  and  kissed  her  warmly.  She  succumbed 
at  once  to  the  cheeriness  of  his  manner. 

'  I  can  only  give  you  two  minutes,  darling/  he  said. 
'  I'm  full  of  business,  and  I  have  an  appointment  with 
my  solicitor  at  eleven.' 

Lucy  could  not  speak.  She  clung  to  her  father,  look- 
ing at  him  with  anxious,  sombre  eyes;  but  he  laughed 
and  patted  her  hand. 

'  You  mustn't  make  too  much  of  all  this,  my  love/ 
he  said  brightly.  '  These  little  things  are  always  liable 
to  happen  to  a  man  of  business;  they  are  the  perils 
of  the  profession,  and  we  have  to  put  up  with  them, 
just  as  kings  and  queens  have  to  put  up  with  bomb- 
shells/ 

*  There's  no  truth  in  it,  father?  » 


THE    EXPLORER  85 

She  did  not  want  to  ask  that  wounding  question,  but 
the  words  slipped  from  her  lips  against  her  will.  He 
broke  away  from  her. 

'Truth?  My  dear  child,  what  do  you  mean?  You 
don't  suppose  I'm  the  man  to  rob  the  widow  and  the 
orphan?  Of  course,  there's  no  truth  in  it.' 

'  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  to  hear  that/  she  exclaimed,  with 
a  deep  sigh  of  relief. 

'  Have  they  been  frightening  you  ? ' 

Lucy  flushed  under  his  frank  look  of  amusement. 
She  felt  that  there  was  a  barrier  between  herself  and 
him,  the  barrier  that  had  existed  for  years,  and  there 
was  something  in  his  manner  which  filled  her  with 
unaccountable  anxiety.  She  would  not  analyse  that 
vague  emotion.  It  was  a  dread  to  see  what  was  so 
carefully  hidden  by  that  breezy  reserve.  She  forced 
herself  to  go  on. 

'  I  know  that  you're  often  carried  away  by  your 
fancies,  and  I  thought  you  might  have  got  into  an 
ambiguous  position.' 

'  I  can  honestly  say  that  no  one  can  bring  anything 
up  against  me,'  he  answered.  *  But  I  do  blame  myself 
for  getting  mixed  up  with  that  man  Saunders.  I'm 
afraid  there's  no  doubt  that  he's  a  wrong  'un — and 
heaven  only  knows  what  he's  been  up  to — but  for  my 
own  part  I  give  you  my  solemn  word  of  honour  that 
I've  done  nothing,  absolutely  nothing,  that  I  have 
the  least  reason  to  be  ashamed  of.' 

Lucy  took  his  hand,  and  a  charming  smile  lit  up  her 
face. 

'  Oh,  father,  you've  made  me  so  happy  by  saying  that. 
Now  I  shall  be  able  to  tell  George  that  there's  nothing 
to  worry  about.' 


86  THE    EXPLORER 

Their  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  arrival 
of  Dick.  Fred  Allerton  greeted  him  heartily. 

*  You've  just  come  in  time  to  take  Lucy  home.  I've 
got  to  go  out.  But  look  here,  George  is  coming  up, 
isn't  he?  Let  us  all  lunch  at  the  Carlton  at  two,  and 
get  Alice  to  come.  We'll  have  a  jolly  little  meal  to- 
gether." 

Dick  was  astounded  to  see  the  lightness  with  which 
Allerton  took  the  affair.  He  seemed  unconscious  of 
the  gravity  of  his  position  and  unmindful  of  the  charge 
which  was  hanging  over  him.  Dick  was  not  anxious 
to  accept  the  invitation,  but  Allerton  would  hear  of 
no  excuses.  He  wanted  to  have  his  friends  gath- 
ered around  him,  and  he  needed  relaxation  after 
the  boredom  of  spending  a  morning  in  his  lawyer's 
office. 

'  Come  on/  he  said.    '  I  can't  wait  another  minute.' 

He  opened  the  door,  and  Lucy  walked  out.  It 
seemed  to  Dick  that  Allerton  was  avoiding  any  chance 
of  conversation  with  him.  But  no  man  likes  to  meet 
his  creditor  within  four  walls,  and  this  disinclination 
might  be  due  merely  to  the  fact  that  Allerton  owed 
him  a  couple  of  hundred  pounds.  But  he  meant  to  get 
in  one  or  two  words. 

'  Are  you  fixed  up  with  a  solicitor  ? '  he  asked. 

'  Do  you  think  I'm  a  child,  Dick  ? '  answered  the 
other.  '  Why,  I've  got  the  smartest  man  in  the  whole 
profession,  Teddie  Blakeley — you  know  him,  don't 
you?' 

'  Only  by  reputation,'  answered  Dick  drily.  1 1  should 
think  that  was  enough  for  most  people.' 

Fred  Allerton  gave  that  peculiarly  honest  laugh  of 
his,  which  was  so  attractive.  Dick  knew  that  the  so- 


THE    EXPLORER  87 

licitor  he  mentioned  was  a  man  of  evil  odour,  who  had 
made  a  specialty  of  dealing  with  the  most  doubtful 
sort  of  commercial  work,  and  his  name  had  been  prom- 
inent in  every  scandal  for  the  last  fifteen  years.  It 
was  surprising  that  he  had  never  followed  any  of  his 
clients  to  the  jail  he  richly  deserved. 

'  I  thought  it  no  good  going  to  one  of  the  old 
crusted  family  solicitors.  I  wanted  a  man  who  knew 
the  tricks  of  the  trade.' 

They  were  walking  down  the  stairs,  while  Lucy  waited 
at  the  bottom.  Dick  stopped  and  turned  round.  He 
looked  at  Allerton  keenly. 

'  You're  not  going  to  do  a  bolt,  are  you  ? ' 

Allerton's  face  lit  up  with  amusement.  He  put  his 
hands  on  Dick's  shoulders. 

'  My  dear  old  Dick,  don't  be  such  an  ass.  I  don't 
know  about  Saunders — he's  a  fishy  sort  of  customer — 
but  I  shall  come  out  of  all  this  with  flying  colours. 
The  prosecution  hasn't  a  leg  to  stand  on/ 

Allerton,  reminding  them  that  they  were  to  lunch 
together,  jumped  into  a  cab.  Lucy  and  Dick  walked 
slowly  back  to  Charles  Street.  Dick  was  very  silent. 
He  had  not  seen  Fred  Allerton  for  some  time  and 
was  surprised  to  see  that  he  had  regained  his  old 
smartness.  The  flat  had  pretty  things  in  it  which  tes- 
tified to  the  lessee's  taste  and  to  his  means,  and  the 
clothes  he  wore  were  new  and  well-cut.  The  invitation 
to  the  Carlton  showed  that  he  was  in  no  want  of  ready 
money,  and  there  was  a  general  air  of  prosperity  about 
him  which  gave  Dick  much  to  think  of. 

Lucy  did  not  ask  him  to  come  in,  since  George,  by 
now,  must  have  arrived,  and  she  wished  to  see  him 
alone.  They  agreed  to  meet  again  at  two.  As  she 


88  THE    EXPLORER 

shook  hands  with  Dick,  Lucy  told  him  what  her  father 
had  said. 

'  I  had  a  sleepless  night/  she  said.  '  It  was  so  stupid 
of  me;  I  couldn't  get  it  out  of  my  head  that  father, 
unintentionally,  had  done  something  rash  or  foolish; 
but  I've  got  his  word  of  honour  that  nothing  is  the 
matter,  and  I  feel  as  if  a  whole  world  of  anxiety  were 
suddenly  lifted  from  my  shoulders.' 

The  party  at  the  Carlton  was  very  gay.  Fred  Aller- 
ton  seemed  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and  his  good-humour 
was  infectious.  He  was  full  of  merry  quips.  Lucy 
had  made  as  little  of  the  affair  as  possible  to  George. 
Her  eyes  rested  on  him,  as  he  sat  opposite  to  her,  and 
she  felt  happy  and  proud.  Now  and  then  he  looked  at 
her,  and  an  affectionate  smile  came  to  his  lips.  She 
was  delighted  with  his  slim  handsomeness.  There  was 
a  guileless  look  in  his  blue  eyes  which  was  infinitely 
attractive.  His  mouth  was  beautifully  modelled.  She 
took  an  immense  pride  in  the  candour  of  soul  which 
shone  with  so  clear  a  light  on  his  face,  and  she  was 
affected  as  a  stranger  might  have  been  by  the  exquisite 
charm  of  manner  which  he  had  inherited  from  his 
father.  She  wanted  to  have  him  to  herself  that  even- 
ing and  suggested  that  they  should  go  to  a  play  to- 
gether. He  accepted  the  idea  eagerly,  for  he  admired 
his  sister  with  all  his  heart;  he  felt  in  himself  a  need 
for  protection,  and  she  was  able  to  minister  to  this. 
He  was  never  so  happy  as  when  he  was  by  her  side.  He 
liked  to  tell  her  all  he  did,  and,  when  she  fired  him 
with  noble  ambitions,  he  felt  capable  of  anything. 

They  were  absurdly  light-hearted,  as  they  started  on 
their  little  jaunt.  Lady  Kelsey  had  slipped  a  couple  of 


THE    EXPLORER  89 

banknotes  into  George's  hand  and  told  them  to  have  a 
good  time.  They  dined  at  the  Carlton,  went  to  a 
musical  comedy,  which  amused  Lucy  because  her 
brother  laughed  so  heartily — she  was  fascinated  by  his 
keen  power  of  enjoyment — and  finished  by  going  to 
the  Savoy  for  sapper.  For  the  moment  all  her  anxieties 
seemed  to  fall  from  her,  and  the  years  of  trouble  were 
forgotten.  She  was  as  merry  and  as  irresponsible  as 
George.  He  was  enchanted.  He  had  never  seen  Lucy 
so  tender  and  so  gay;  there  was  a  new  brilliancy  in 
her  eyes;  and,  without  quite  knowing  what  it  was  that 
differed,  he  found  a  soft  mellowness  in  her  laughter 
which  filled  him  with  an  uncomprehended  delight. 
Neither  did  Lucy  know  why  the  world  on  a  sudden 
seemed  fuller  than  it  had  ever  done  before,  nor  why 
the  future  smiled  so  kindly:  it  never  occurred  to  her 
that  she  was  in  love. 

When  Lucy,  exhausted  but  content,  found  herself  at 
length  in  her  room,  she  thanked  God  for  the  happiness 
of  the  evening.  It  was  the  last  time  she  could  do  that 
for  many  weary  years. 

A  few  days  later  Allerton  appeared  again  at  the 
police  court,  and  the  magistrate,  committing  him  for 
trial,  declined  to  renew  his  bail.  The  prisoner  was 
removed  in  custody. 


VI 

DURING  the  fortnight  that  followed,  Alec  spent  much 
time  with  Lucy.  Together,  in  order  to  cheat  the  hours 
that  hung  so  heavily  on  her  hands,  they  took  long  walks 
in  Hyde  Park,  and,  when  Alec's  business  permitted, 
they  went  to  the  National  Gallery.  Then  he  took  her 
to  the  Natural  History  Museum,  and  his  conversation, 
in  face  of  the  furred  and  feathered  things  from  Africa, 
made  the  whole  country  vivid  to  her.  Lucy  was  very 
grateful  to  him  because  he  drew  her  mind  away  from 
the  topic  that  constantly  absorbed  it.  Though  he  never 
expressed  his  sympathy  in  so  many  words,  she  felt  it 
in  every  inflection  of  his  voice.  His  patience  was  ad- 
mirable. 

At  last  came  the  day  iked  for  the  trial. 

Fred  Allerton  insisted  that  neither  Lucy  nor  George 
should  come  to  the  Old  Bailey,  and  they  were  to 
await  the  verdict  at  Lady  Kelsey's.  Dick  and  Eobert 
Boulger  were  subpoenaed  as  witnesses.  In  order  that 
she  might  be  put  out  of  her  suspense  quickly,  Lucy 
asked  Alec  MacKenzie  to  go  into  court  and  bring  her 
the  result  as  soon  as  it  was  known. 

The  morning  passed  with  leaden  feet. 

After  luncheon  Mrs.  Crowley  came  to  sit  with  Lady 
Kelscy,  and  together  they  watched  the  minute  hand  go 
round  the  clock.  Now  the  verdict  might  be  expected  at 
any  moment.  After  some  time  Canon  Spratte,  the  vicar 
of  the  church  which  Lady  Kelsey  attended,  sent  up  to 
ask  if  he  might  see  her;  and  Mrs.  Crowley,  thinking  to 

90 


THE    EXPLORER  91 

distract  her,  asked  him  to  come  in.  The  Canon's  breezy 
courtliness  as  a  rule  soothed  Lady  Kelsey's  gravest 
troubles,  but  now  she  would  not  be  comforted. 

'  I  shall  never  get  over  it/  she  said,  with  a  handker- 
chief to  her  eyes.  '  I  shall  never  cease  blaming  myself. 
Nothing  of  all  this  would  have  happened,  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  me.' 

Canon  Spratte  and  Mrs.  Crowley  watched  her  with- 
out answering.  She  was  a  stout,  amiable  woman,  who 
had  clothed  herself  in  black  because  the  occasion  was 
tragic.  Grief  had  made  her  garrulous. 

'  Poor  Fred  came  to  me  one  day  and  said  he  must 
have  eight  thousand  pounds  at  once.  He  told  me  his 
partner  had  cheated  him,  and  it  was  a  matter  of  life 
and  death.  But  it  was  such  a  large  sum,  and  I've  given 
him  so  much  already.  After  all,  I've  got  to  think  of 
Lucy  and  George.  They  only  have  me  to  depend  on, 
and  I  refused  to  give  it.  Oh,  I'd  have  given  every 
penny  I  own  rather  than  have  this  horrible  shame/ 

*  You  mustn't  take  it  too  much  to  heart,  Lady 
Kelsey/  said  Mrs.  Crowley.  'It  will  soon  be  all 
over/ 

'  Our  ways  have  parted  for  some  time  now/  said 
Canon  Spratte,  '  but  at  one  period  I  used  to  see  a  good 
deal  of  Fred  Allerton.  I  can't  tell  you  how  distressed 
I  was  to  hear  of  this  terrible  misfortune/ 

'  He's  always  been  unlucky/  returned  Lady  Kelsey. 
'  I  only  hope  this  will  be  a  lesson  to  him.  He's  like 
a  child  in  business  matters.  Oh,  it's  awful  to  think  of 
my  poor  sister's  husband  standing  in  the  felon's  dock ! ' 

'  You  must  try  not  to  think  of  it.  I'm  sure  every- 
thing will  turn  out  quite  well.  In  another  hour  you'll 
have  him  with  you  again/ 


93  THE    EXPLORER 

Tht  Canon  got  up  and  shook  hands  with  Lady  Kel- 
sey. 

'  It  was  so  good  of  you  to  come/  she  said. 

He  turned  to  Mrs.  Crowley,  whom  he  liked  because 
she  was  American,  rich,  and  a  widow. 

'  I'm  grateful,  too,'  she  murmured,  as  she  hade  him 
farewell.  '  A  clergyman  always  helps  one  so  much  to 
bear  other  people's  misfortunes.' 

Canon  Spratte  smiled  and  made  a  mental  note  of 
the  remark,  which  he  thought  would  do  very  well  from 
his  own  lips. 

'  Where  is  Lucy  ? '  asked  Mrs.  Crowley,  when  he  had 
gone. 

Lady  Kelsey  threw  up  her  hands  with  the  feeling, 
half  of  amazement,  half  of  annoyance,  which  a  very 
emotional  person  has  always  for  one  who  is  self-re- 
strained. 

'  She's  sitting  in  her  room,  reading.  She's  been  read- 
ing all  day.  Heaven  only  knows  how  she  can  do  it. 
I  tried,  and  all  the  letters  swam  before  my  eyes.  It 
drives  me  mad  to  see  how  calm  she  is.' 

They  began  to  talk  of  the  immediate  future.  Lady 
Kelsey  had  put  a  large  sum  at  Lucy's  disposal,  and  it 
was  arranged  that  the  two  children  should  take  their 
father  to  some  place  in  the  south  of  France  where  he 
could  rest  after  the  terrible  ordeal. 

'  I  don't  know  what  they  would  all  have  done  with- 
out you,'  said  Mrs.  Crowley.  '  You  have  been  a  perfect 
angel.' 

'  Nonsense,'  smiled  Lady  Kelsey.  '  They're  my  only 
relations  in  the  world,  except  Bobbie,  who's  very  much 
too  rich  as  it  is,  and  I  love  Lucy  and  George  as  if 
they  were  my  own  children.  What  is  the  good  of 


THE    EXPLORER  93 

my  money  except  to  make  them  happy  and  comfort- 
able?' 

Mrs.  Crowley  remembered  Dick's  surmise  that  Lady 
Kelsey  had  loved  Fred  Allerton,  and  she  wondered 
how  much  of  the  old  feeling  still  remained.  She  felt 
a  great  pity  for  the  kind,  unselfish  creature.  Lady 
Kelsey  started  as  she  heard  the  street  door  slam.  But 
it  was  only  George  who  entered. 

'  Oh,  George,  where  have  you  been  ?  Why  didn't 
you  come  in  to  luncheon  ?  ' 

He  looked  pale  and  haggard.  The  strain  of  the  last 
fortnight  had  told  on  him  enormously,  and  it  was  plain 
that  his  excitement  was  almost  unbearable. 

'  I  couldn't  eat  anything.  I've  been  walking  about, 
waiting  for  the  damned  hours  to  pass.  I  wish  I  hadn't 
promised  father  not  to  go  into  court.  Anything  would 
have  been  better  than  this  awful  suspense.  I  saw  the 
man  who's  defending  him  when  they  adjourned  for 
luncheon,  and  he  told  me  it  was  all  right.' 

'  Of  course  it's  all  right.  You  didn't  imagine  that 
your  father  would  be  found  guilty.' 

'  Oh,  I  knew  he  wouldn't  have  done  a  thing  like 
that,'  said  George  impatiently.  c  But  I  can't  help 
being  frightfully  anxious.  The  papers  are  awful. 
They've  got  huge  placards  out:  County  gentleman  at 
the  Old  Bailey.  Society  in  a  Buclcet  Shop/ 

George  shivered  with  horror. 

'  Oh,  it's  awful ! '  he  cried. 

Lady  Kelsey  began  to  cry  again,  and  Mrs.  Crowley 
sat  in  silence,  not  knowing  what  to  say.  George  walked 
about  in  agitation. 

'  But  I  know  he's  not  guilty,'  moaned  Lady  Kelsey. 

*  If  he's  guilty  or  not  he's  ruined  me,'  said  George. 


94  THE    EXPLORER 

'  I  can't  go  up  to  Oxford  again  after  this.  I  don't  know 
what  the  devil's  to  become  of  me.  We're  all  utterly 
disgraced.  Oh,  how  could  he !  How  could  he ! ' 

'  Oh,  George,  don't,'  said  Lady  Kelsey. 

But  George,  with  a  weak  man's  petulance,  could  not 
keep  back  the  bitter  words  that  he  had  turned  over  in 
his  heart  so  often  since  the  brutal  truth  was  told  him. 

'  Wasn't  it  enough  that  he  fooled  away  every  penny 
he  had,  so  that  we're  simply  beggars,  both  of  us,  and 
we  have  to  live  on  your  charity  ?  I  should  have  thought 
that  would  have  satisfied  him,  without  getting  locked 
up  for  being  connected  in  a  beastly  bucketshop  swindle.' 

'  George,  how  can  you  talk  of  your  father  like  that ! ' 

He  gave  a  sort  of  sob  and  looked  at  her  with  wild 
eyes.  But  at  that  moment  a  cab  drove  up,  and  he 
sprang  on  to  the  balcony. 

'  If  s  Dick  Lomas  and  Bobbie.  They've  come  to  tell 
us/ 

He  ran  to  the  door  and  opened  it.  They  walked 
up  the  stairs. 

<  Well?  'he  cried.    'Well?' 

'  It's  not  over  yet.  We  left  just  as  the  judge  was 
summing  up.' 

'  Damn  you ! '  cried  George,  with  an  explosion  of 
sudden  fury. 

'  Steady,  old  man,'  said  Dick. 

(  Why  didn't  you  stay  ? '  moaned  Lady  Kelsey. 

'  I  couldn't,'  said  Dick.    '  It  was  too  awful.' 

'  How  was  it  going  ?  ' 

'  I  couldn't  make  head  or  tail  of  it.  My  mind  was 
in  a  whirl.  I'm  an  hysterical  old  fool.' 

Mrs.  Crowley  went  up  to  Lady  Kelsey  and  kissed 
her. 


THE    EXPLORER  95 

'  Why  don't  you  go  and  lie  down  for  a  little  while, 
dear/  she  said.  '  You  look  positively  exhausted.' 

'  I  have  a  racking  headache,'  groaned  Lady  Kelsey. 

'  Alec  MacKenzie  has  promised  to  come  here  as  soon 
as  it's  over.  But  you  mustn't  expect  him  for  another 
hour/ 

'  Yes,  I'll  go  and  lie  down/  said  Lady  Kelsey. 

George,  unable  to  master  his  impatience,  flung  open 
the  window  and  stood  on  the  balcony,  watching  for  the 
cab  that  would  bring  the  news. 

'  Go  and  talk  to  him,  there's  a  good  fellow/  said 
Dick  to  Eobert  Boulger.  '  Cheer  him  up  a  bit/ 

'  Yes,  of  course  I  will.  It's  rot  to  make  a  fuss  now 
that  it's  nearly  over.  Uncle  Fred  will  be  here  himself 
in  an  hour.' 

Dick  looked  at  him  without  answering.  "When  Eobert 
had  gone  on  to  the  balcony,  he  flung  himself  wearily 
in  a  chair. 

'  I  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer/  he  said.  '  You 
can't  imagine  how  awful  it  was  to  see  that  wretched 
man  in  the  dock.  He  looked  like  a  hunted  beast,  his 
face  was  all  grey  with  fright,  and  once  I  caught  his 
eyes.  I  shall  never  forget  the  look  that,  was  in  them.' 

'  But  I  thought  he  was  bearing  it  so  well/  said  Mrs. 
Crowley. 

'  You  know,  he's  a  man  who's  never  looked  the 
truth  in  the  face.  He  never  seemed  to  realise  the 
gravity  of  the  charges  that  were  brought  against  him, 
and  even  when  the  magistrate  refused  to  renew  his  bail, 
his  confidence  never  deserted  him.  It  was  only  to- 
day, when  the  whole  thing  was  unrolled  before  him,  that 
he  appeared  to  understand.  Oh,  if  you'd  heard  the 


96  THE    EXPLORER 

evidence  that  was  given !  And  then  the  pitiful  specta- 
cle of  those  two  men  trying  to  throw  the  blame  on  one 
another ! ' 

A  look  of  terror  came  into  Mrs.  Crowley's  face. 

'  You  don't  think  he's  guilty  ?  *  she  gasped. 

Dick  looked  at  her  steadily,  hut  did  not  answer. 

'  But  Lucy's  convinced  that  he'll  be  acquitted/ 

f  I  wonder/ 

'  What  on  earth  do  you  mean  ?  ' 

Dick  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'  But  he  can't  be  guilty/  cried  Mrs.  Crowley.  '  It's 
impossible/ 

Dick  made  an  effort  to  drive  away  from  his  mind 
the  dreadful  fears  that  filled  it. 

'Yes,  that's  what  I  feel,  too/  he  said.  'With  all 
his  faults  Fred  Allerton  can't  have  committed  such  a 
despicable  crime.  You've  never  met  him,  you  don't 
know  him;  but  I've  known  him  intimately  for  twenty 
years.  He  couldn't  have  swindled  that  wretched  woman 
out  of  every  penny  she  had,  knowing  that  it  meant 
starvation  to  her.  He  couldn't  have  been  so  brutally 
cruel/ 

'  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  to  hear  you  say  that/ 

Silence  fell  upon  them  for  a  while,  and  they  waited. 
From  the  balcony  they  heard  George  talking  rapidly, 
but  they  could  not  distinguish  his  words. 

'  I  felt  ashamed  to  stay  in  court  and  watch  the 
torture  of  that  unhappy  man.  I've  dined  with  him 
times  out  of  number;  I've  stayed  at  his  house;  I've 
ridden  his  horses.  Oh,  it  was  too  awful/ 

He  got  up  impatiently  and  walked  up  and  down  the 
room. 

'  It  must  be  over  by  now.    Why  doesn't  Alec  come  ? 


THE    EXPLORER  97 

He  swore  he'd  bolt  round  the  very  moment  the  verdict 
was  given.' 

'  The  suspense  is  dreadful,'  said  Mrs.  Crowley. 

Dick  stood  still.  He  looked  at  the  little  American, 
but  his  eyes  did  not  see  her. 

'  There  are  some  people  who  are  born  without  a 
moral  sense.  They  are  as  unable  to  distinguish  be- 
tween right  and  wrong  as  a  man  who  is  colour  blind, 
between  red  and  green.' 

'Why  do  you  say  that?'  asked  Mrs.  Crowley. 

He  did  not  answer.    She  went  up  to  him  anxiously. 

'  Mr.  Lomas,  I  can't  bear  it.  You  must  tell  me. 
Do  you  think  he's  guilty? ' 

He  passed  his  hands  over  his  eyes. 

e  The  evidence  was  damnable.' 

At  that  moment  George  sprang  into  the  room. 

'  There's  Alec.     He's  just  driving  along  in  a  cab.' 

'  Thank  God,  thank  God ! '  cried  Mrs.  Crowley.  *  If 
it  had  lasted  longer  I  should  have  gone  mad.' 

George  went  to  the  door. 

'  I  must  tell  Miller.  He  has  orders  to  let  no  one 
up.' 

He  leaned  over  the  banisters,  as  the  bell  of  the 
front  door  was  rung. 

'  Miller,  Miller,  let  Mr.  MacKenzie  in.' 

'Very  good,  sir,'  answered  the  butler. 

Lucy  had  heard  the  cab  drive  up,  and  she  came  into 
the  drawing-room  with  Lady  Kelsey.  The  elder  woman 
had  broken  down  altogether  and  was  sobbing  dis- 
tractedly. Lucy  was  very  white,  but  otherwise  quite 
composed.  She  shook  hands  with  Dick  and  Mrs. 
Crowley. 

*  It  was  kind  of  you  to  come/  she  said. 


98  THE   EXPLORER 

'  Oh,  my  poor  Lucy,'  said  Mrs.  Crowley,  with  a  sob  in 
her  voice. 

Lucy  smiled  bravely. 

'  It's  all  over  now.' 

Alec  came  in,  and  she  walked  eagerly  towards  him. 

'  Well  ?  I  was  hoping  you'd  bring  father  with  you. 
When  is  he  coming  ? ' 

She  stopped.  She  gave  a  gasp  as  she  saw  Alec's 
face.  Though  her  cheeks  were  pale  before,  now  their 
pallor  was  deathly. 

'What  is  the  matter?' 

'Isn't  it  all  right?'  cried  George. 

Lucy  put  her  hand  on  his  arm  to  quieten  him.  It 
seemed  that  Alec  could  not  find  words.  There  was  a  hor- 
rible silence,  but  they  all  knew  what  he  had  to  tell 
them. 

'  I'm  afraid  you  must  prepare  yourself  for  a  great 
tmhappiness,'  he  said. 

'Where's  father?'  cried  Lucy.  'Where's  father? 
Why  didn't  you  bring  him  with  you  ? ' 

With  the  horrible  truth  dawning  upon  her,  she  was 
losing  her  self-control.  She  made  an  effort.  Alec 
would  not  speak,  and  she  was  obliged  to  question  him. 
When  the  words  came,  her  voice  was  hoarse  and  low. 

'  You've  not  told  us  what  the  verdict  was.' 

'  Guilty/  he  answered. 

Then  the  colour  flew  back  to  her  cheeks,  and  her 
eyes  flashed  with  anger. 

'  But  it's  impossible.  He  was  innocent.  He  swore 
that  he  hadn't  done  it.  There  must  be  some  horrible 
mistake.' 

'  I  wish  to  God  there  were,'  said  Alec. 

'  You  don't  think  he's  guilty  ?  '  she  cried. 


SHE    GAVE    A   GASP    AS  SHE    SAW  ALEC'S  FACE" 


THE    EXPLORER  99 

He  did  not  answer,  and  for  a  moment  they  looked  at 
one  another  steadily. 

'  What  was  the  sentence  ?  '  she  asked. 

'  The  judge  was  dead  against  him.  He  made  some 
very  violent  remarks  as  he  passed  it/ 

'  Tell  me  what  he  said/ 

f  Why  should  you  wish  to  torture  yourself  ? ' 

'I  want  to  know/ 

'  He  seemed  to  think  the  fact  that  your  father  was 
a  gentleman  made  the  crime  more  odious,  and  the  way 
in  which  he  had  induced  that  woman  to  part  with  her 
money  made  no  punishment  too  severe.  He  sentenced 
him  to  seven  years  penal  servitude/ 

George  gave  a  cry  and  sinking  into  a  chair,  burst 
into  tears.  Lucy  put  her  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

'  Don't,  George/  she  said.  '  You  must  bear  up.  Now 
we  want  all  our  courage,  now  more  than  ever/ 

'  Oh,  I  can't  bear  it,'  he  moaned. 

She  bent  down  and  kissed  him  tenderly. 

'  Be  brave,  my  dearest,  be  brave  for  my  sake/ 

But  he  sobbed  uncontrollably.  It  was  a  horribly 
painful  sight.  Dick  took  him  by  the  arm  and  led 
him  away.  Lucy  turned  to  Alec,  who  was  standing 
where  first  he  had  stopped. 

'  I  want  to  ask  you  a  question.  Will  you  answer  me 
quite  truthfully,  whatever  the  pain  you  think  it  will 
cause  me  ? ' 

<  I  will/ 

'You  followed  the  trial  from  the  beginning,  you 
know  all  the  details  of  it.  Do  you  think  my  father  is 
guilty?' 

'What  can  it  matter  what  I  think?' 

'  I  beg  you  to  tell  me/ 


100  THE    EXPLORER 

Alec  hesitated  for  a  moment.  His  voice  was  very 
low. 

'  If  I  had  been  on  the  jury  Fm  afraid  I  should  have 
had  no  alternative  but  to  decide  as  they  did.' 

Lucy  bent  her  head,  and  heavy  tears  rolled  down 
her  cheeks. 


VII 


NEXT  morning  Lucy  received  a  note  from  Alec  Mac- 
Kenzie,  asking  if  he  might  see  her  that  day;  he  sug- 
gested calling  upon  her  early  in  the  afternoon  and 
expressed  the  hope  that  he  might  find  her  alone.  She 
sat  in  the  library  at  Lady  Kelsey's  and  waited  for  him. 
She  held  a  book  in  her  hands,  but  she  could  not  read. 
And  presently  she  began  to  weep.  Ever  since  the  dread- 
ful news  had  reached  her,  Lucy  had  done  her  utmost  to 
preserve  her  self-control,  and  all  night  she  had  lain 
with  clenched  hands  to  prevent  herself  from  giving 
way.  For  George's  sake  and  for  her  father's,  she  felt 
that  she  must  keep  her  strength.  But  now  the  strain 
was  too  great  for  her;  she  was  alone;  the  tears  began 
to  flow  helplessly,  and  she  made  no  effort  to  restrain 
them. 

She  had  been  allowed  to  see  her  father.  Lucy  and 
George  had  gone  to  the  prison,  and  she  recalled  now  the 
details  of  the  brief  interview.  The  whole  thing  was 
horrible.  She  felt  that  her  heart  would  break. 

In  the  night  indignation  had  seized  Lucy.  After 
reading  accounts  of  the  case  in  half  a  dozen  papers 
she  could  not  doubt  that  her  father  was  justly  con- 
demned, and  she  was  horrified  at  the  baseness  of  the 
crime.  His  letters  to  the  poor  woman  he  had  robbed, 
were  read  in  court,  and  Lucy  flushed  as  she  thought 
of  them.  They  were  a  tissue  of  lies,  hypocritical  and 
shameless.  Lucy  remembered  the  question  she  had  put 
to  Alec  and  his  answer. 

101 


102  THE    EXPLORER 

But  neither  the  newspapers  nor  Alec's  words  were 
needed  to  convince  her  of  her  father's  guilt;  in  the 
very  depths  of  her  being,  notwithstanding  the  passion 
with  which  she  reproached  herself,  she  had  been  con- 
vinced of  it.  She  would  not  acknowledge  even  to  her- 
self that  she  doubted  him;  and  all  her  words,  all  her 
thoughts  even,  expressed  a  firm  belief  in  his  innocence ; 
but  a  ghastly  terror  had  lurked  in  some  hidden  recess 
of  her  consciousness.  It  haunted  her  soul  like  a  mys- 
terious shadow  which  there  was  no  bodily  shape  to  ex- 
plain. The  fear  had  caught  her,  as  though  with  material 
hands,  when  first  the  news  of  his  arrest  was  brought  to 
Court  Leys  by  Robert  Boulger,  and  again  at  her  father's 
flat  in  Shaftesbury  Avenue,  when  she  saw  a  secret 
shame  cowering  behind  the  gaod-humoured  flippancy 
of  his  smile.  Notwithstanding  his  charm  of  manner 
and  the  tenderness  of  his  affection  for  his  children, 
she  had  known  that  he  was  a  liar  and  a  rascal.  She 
hated  him. 

But  when  Lucy  saw  him,  still  with  the  hunted  look 
that  Dick  had  noticed  at  the  trial,  so  changed  from 
when  last  they  had  met,  her  anger  melted  away,  and 
she  felt  only  pity.  She  reproached  herself  bitterly. 
How  could  she  be  so  heartless  when  he  was  suffering? 
At  first  he  could  not  speak.  He  looked  from  one  to  the 
other  of  his  children  silently,  with  appealing  eyes; 
and  he  saw  the  utter  wretchedness  which  was  on  George's 
face.  George  was  ashamed  to  look  at  him  and  kept 
his  eyes  averted.  Fred  Allerton  was  suddenly  grown 
old  and  bent;  his  poor  face  was  sunken,  and  the  skin 
had  an  ashy  look  like  that  of  a  dying  man.  He  had 
already  a  cringing  air,  as  if  he  must  shrink  away  from 
his  fellows.  It  was  horrible  to  Lucy  that  she  was  not 


THE    EXPLORER  103 

allowed  to  take  him  in  her  arms.  He  broke  down  ut- 
terly and  sobbed. 

'  Oh,  Lucy,  you  don't  hate  me  ? '  he  whispered. 

'  No,  I've  never  loved  you  more  than  I  love  you  now/ 
she  said. 

And  she  said  it  truthfully.  Her  conscience  smote 
her,  and  she  wondered  bitterly  what  she  had  left  undone 
that  might  have  averted  this  calamity. 

'  I  didn't  mean  to  do  it/  he  said,  brokenly. 

Lucy  looked  at  his  poor,  wearied  eyes.  It  seemed 
very  cruel  that  she  might  not  kiss  them. 

{ I'd  have  paid  her  everything  if  she'd,  only  have 
given  me  time.  Luck  was  against  me  all  through.  I've 
been  a  bad  father  to  both  of  you/ 

Lucy  was  able  to  tell  him  that  Lady  Kelsey  would 
pay  the  eight  thousand  pounds  the  woman  had  lost. 
The  good  creature  had  thought  of  it  even  before  Lucy 
made  the  suggestion.  At  all  events  none  of  them  need 
have  on  his  conscience  the  beggary  of  that  unfortunate 
person. 

'  Alice  was  always  a  good  soul/  said  Allerton.  He 
clung  to  Lucy  as  though  she  were  his  only  hope.  '  You 
won't  forget  me  while  I'm  away,  Lucy  ? ' 

'  I'll  come  and  see  you  whenever  I'm  allowed  to/ 

'  It  won't  be  very  long.    I  hope  I  shall  die  quickly/ 

'You  mustn't  do  that.  You  must  keep  well  and 
strong  for  my  sake  and  George's.  We  shall  never  cease 
to  love  you,  father/ 

'  What's  going  to  happen  to  George  now  ? '  he  asked. 

'We  shall  find  something  for  him.  You  need  not 
worry  about  him/ 

George  flushed.  He  could  find  nothing  to  say.  He 
was  ashamed  and  angry.  He  wanted  to  get  away 


104.  THE    EXPLORER 

quickly  from  that  place  of  horror,  and  he  was  relieved 
when  the  warder  told  them  it  was  time  to  go. 
'  Good-bye,  George/  said  Fred  Allerton. 
'  Good-bye/ 

He  kept  his  eyes  sullenly  fixed  on  the  ground.    The 
look  of  despair  in  Allerton's  face  grew  more  intense. 
He  saw  that  his  son  hated  him.     And  it  had  been  on 
him  that  all  his  light  affection  was  placed.     He  had 
been  very  proud  of  the  handsome  boy.     And  now  his 
son  merely  wanted  to  be  rid  of  him.    Bitter  words  rose 
to  his  lips,  but  his  heart  was  too  heavy  to  utter  them, 
and  they  expressed  themselves  only  in  a  sob. 
'  Forgive  me  for  all  I've  done  against  you,  Lucy.' 
'  Have  courage,  father,  we  will  never  love  you  less.' 
He  forced  a  sad  smile  to  his  lips.     She  included 
George  in  what  she  said,  but  he  knew  that  she  spoke 
only  for  herself.     They  went.     And  he  turned  away 
into  the  darkness. 

Lucy's  tears  relieved  her  a  little.  They  exhausted 
her,  and  so  made  her  agony  more  easy  to  bear.  It  was 
necessary  now  to  think  of  the  future.  Alec  MacKenzie 
must  be  there  soon.  She  wondered  why  he  had  written, 
and  what  he  could  have  to  say  that  mattered.  She 
could  only  think  of  her  father,  and  above  all  of  George. 
She  dried  her  eyes,  and  with  a  deep  sigh  set  herself 
methodically  to  consider  the  difficult  problem. 

When  Alec  came  she  rose  gravely  to  receive  him. 
For  a  moment  he  was  overcome  by  her  loveliness,  and 
he  gazed  at  her  in  silence.  Lucy  was  a  woman  who 
was  at  her  best  in  the  tragic  situations  of  life;  her 
beauty  was  heightened  by  the  travail  of  her  soul,  and 


THE    EXPLORER  105 

the  heaviness  of  her  eyes  gave  a  pathetic  grandeur  to 
her  wan  face.  She  advanced  to  meet  sorrow  with  an 
unquailing  glance,  and  Alec,  who  knew  something  of 
heroism,  recognised  the  greatness  of  her  heart.  Of 
late  he  had  been  more  than  once  to  see  that  portrait  of 
Diana  of  the  Uplands,  in  which  he,  too,  found  the  gra- 
cious healthiness  of  Lucy  Allerton;  but  now  she  seemed 
like  some  sad  queen,  English  to  the  very  bones,  who 
bore  with  a  royal  dignity  an  intolerable  grief,  and  yet 
by  the  magnificence  of  her  spirit  turned  into  something 
wholly  beautiful. 

'  You  must  forgive  me  for  forcing  myself  upon  you 
to-day/  he  said  slowly.  '  But  my  time  is  very  short, 
and  I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  at  once/ 

'  It  is  very  good  of  you  to  come.'  She  was  embar- 
rassed, and  did  not  know  what  exactly  to  say.  *  I  am 
always  very  glad  to  see  you/ 

He  looked  at  her  steadily,  as  though  he  were  turning 
over  in  his  mind  her  commonplace  words.  She  smiled. 

'  I  wanted  to  thank  you  for  your  great  kindness  to 
me  during  these  two  or  three  weeks.  You've  been  very 
good  to  me,  and  you've  helped  me  to  bear  all  that — I've 
had  to  bear.' 

'  I  would  do  far  more  for  you  than  that/  he  answered. 
Suddenly  it  flashed  through  her  mind  why  he  had 
come.  Her  heart  gave  a  great  beat  against  her  chest. 
The  thought  had  never  entered  her  head.  She  sat  down 
and  waited  for  him  to  speak.  He  did  not  move.  There 
was  a  singular  immobility  about  him  when  something 
absorbed  his  mind. 

'  I  wrote  and  asked  if  I  might  see  you  alone,  be- 
cause I  had  something  that  I  wanted  to  say  to  you. 
I've  wanted  to  say  it  ever  since  we  were  at  Court  Leys 


106  THE    EXPLORER 

together,  but  I  was  going  away — heaven  only  knows 
when  I  shall  come  back,  and  perhaps  something  may 
happen  to  me — and  I  thought  it  was  unfair  to  you  to 
speak. 

He  paused.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  hers.  She 
waited  for  him  to  go  on. 

'  I  wanted  to  ask  you  if  you  would  marry  me/ 

She  drew  a  long  breath.  Her  face  kept  its  expres- 
sion of  intense  gravity. 

'  It's  very  kind  and  chivalrous  of  you  to  suggest 
it.  You  mustn't  think  me  ungrateful  if  I  tell  you  I 
can't.' 

'  Why  not?  '  he  asked  quietly. 

'  I  must  look  after  my  father.  If  it  is  any  use  I 
shall  go  and  live  near  the  prison.' 

'  There  is  no  reason  why  you  should  not  do  that  if 
you  married  me.' 

She  shook  her  head. 

'No,  I  must  be  free.  As  soon  as  my  father  is  re- 
leased I  must  be  ready  to  live  with  him.  And  I  can't 
take  an  honest  man's  name.  It  looks  as  if  I  were 
running  away  from  my  own  and  taking  shelter  else- 
where.' 

She  hesitated  for  a  while,  since  it  made  her  very 
shy  to  say  what  she  had  in  mind.  When  she  spoke 
it  was  in  a  low  and  trembling  voice. 

'  You  don't  know  how  proud  I  was  of  my  name  and 
my  family.  For  centuries  they've  been  honest,  decent 
people,  and  I  felt  that  we'd  had  a  part  in  the  making  of 
England.  And  now  I  feel  utterly  ashamed.  Dick  Lo- 
mas  laughed  at  me  because  I  was  so  proud  of  my  fam- 
ily. I  daresay  I  was  stupid.  I  never  paid  much  atten- 
tion to  rank  and  that  kind  of  thing,  but  it  did  seem  to 


THE    EXPLORER  107 

me  that  family  was  different.  I've  seen  my  father,  and 
he  simply  doesn't  realise  for  a  moment  that  he's  done 
something  horribly  mean  and  shameful.  There  must 
be  some  taint  in  our  nature.  I  couldn't  marry  you;  I 
should  be  afraid  that  my  children  would  inherit  the  rot- 
tenness of  my  blood.' 

He  listened  to  what  she  said.  Then  he  went  up  to 
her  and  put  his  hands  on  her  shoulders.  His  calmness, 
and  the  steadiness  of  his  voice  seemed  to  quieten  her. 

( I  think  you  will  be  able  to  help  your  father  and 
George  better  if  you  are  my  wife.  I'm  afraid  your  posi- 
tion will  be  very  difficult.  Won't  you  give  me  the  great 
happiness  of  helping  you  ?  ' 

*  We  must  stand  on  our  own  feet.  I'm  very  grateful, 
but  you  can  do  nothing  for  us.' 

'  I'm  very  awkward  and  stupid,  I  don't  know  how  to 
say  what  I  want  to.  I  think  I  loved  you  from  that 
first  day  at  Court  Leys.  I  did  not  understand  then 
what  had  happened ;  I  suddenly  felt  that  something  new 
and  strange  had  come  into  my  life.  And  day  by  day 
I  loved  you  more,  and  then  it  took  up  my  whole  soul. 
I've  never  loved  anyone  but  you.  I  never  can  love 
anyone  but  you.  I've  been  looking  for  you  all  my 
life.' 

She  could  not  stand  the  look  of  his  eyes,  and  she  cast 
hers  down.  He  saw  the  exquisite  shadow  of  her  eye- 
lashes on  her  cheek. 

'  But  I  didn't  dare  say  anything  to  you  then.  Even 
if  you  had  cared  for  me,  it  seemed  unfair  to  bind  you  to 
me  when  I  was  starting  on  this  expedition.  But  now 
I  must  speak.  I  go  in  a  week.  It  would  give  me 
so  much  strength  and  courage  if  I  knew  that  I  had  your 
love.  I  love  you  with  all  my  heart.' 


108  THE    EXPLORER 

She  looked  up  at  him  now,  and  her  eyes  were  shining 
with  tears,  but  they  were  not  the  tears  of  a  hopeless 
pain. 

'  I  can't  marry  you  now.  It  would  be  unfair  to  you, 
I  owe  myself  entirely  to  my  father/ 

He  dropped  his  hands  from  her  shoulders  and  stepped 
back. 

'  It  must  be  as  you  will/ 

'  But  don't  think  I'm  ungrateful,'  she  said.  '  I'm 
so  proud  that  I  have  your  love.  It  seems  to  lift  me  up 
from  the  depths.  You  don't  know  how  much  good 
you  have  done  me/ 

'  I  wanted  to  help  you,  and  you  will  let  me  do  nothing 
for  you/ 

On  a  sudden  a  thought  flashed  through  her.  She 
gave  a  little  cry  of  amazement,  for  here  was  the  solu- 
tion of  her  greatest  difficulty. 

'  Yes,  you  can  do  something  for  me.  Will  you  take 
George  with  you  ?  ' 

I  George?' 

He  remained  silent  for  a  moment,  while  he  consid- 
ered the  proposition. 

I 1  can  trust  him  in  your  hands.     You  will  make  a 
good  and  a  strong  man  of  him.   Oh,  won't  you  give  him 
this  chance  of  washing  out  the  stain  that  is  on  our 
name  ? ' 

'  Do  you  know  that  he  will  have  to  undergo  hunger 
and  thirst  and  every  kind  of  hardship?  It's  not  a  pic- 
nic that  I'm  going  on/ 

'  Fm  willing  that  he  should  undergo  everything.  The 
cause  is  splendid.  His  self-respect  is  wavering  in  the 
balance.  If  he  gets  to  noble  work  he  will  feel  himself  a 
man/ 


THE   EXPLORER  109 

'  There  will  be  a  good  deal  of  fighting.  It  has 
seemed  foolish  to  dwell  on  the  dangers  that  await  me, 
but  I  do  realise  that  they  are  greater  than  I  have  ever 
faced  before.  This  time  it  is  win  or  die/ 

'  The  dangers  can  be  no  greater  than  those  his  an- 
cestors have  taken  cheerfully/ 

'  He  may  be  wounded  or  killed/ 

Lucy  hesitated  for  an  instant.  The  words  she  uttered 
came  from  unmoving  lips. 

*  If  he  dies  a  brave  man's  death  I  can  ask  for  nothing 
more/ 

Alec  smiled  at  her  infinite  courage.  He  was  im- 
mensely proud  of  her. 

'  Then  tell  him  that  I  shall  be  glad  to  take  him/ 

e  May  I  call  him  now  ?  ' 

Alec  nodded.  She  rang  the  bell  and  told  the  servant 
who  came  that  she  wished  to  see  her  brother.  George 
came  in.  The  strain  of  the  last  fortnight,  the  horrible 
shock  of  his  father's  conviction,  had  told  on  him  far 
more  than  on  Lucy.  He  looked  worn  and  ill.  He  was 
broken  down  with  shame.  The  corners  of  his  mouth 
drooped  querulously,  and  his  handsome  face  bore  an 
expression  of  utter  misery.  Alec  looked  at  him  steadily. 
He  felt  infinite  pity  for  his  youth,  and  there  was  a 
charm  of  manner  about  him,  a  way  of  appealing  for 
sympathy,  which  touched  the  strong  man.  He  won- 
dered what  character  the  boy  had.  His  heart  went  out 
to  him,  and  he  loved  him  already  because  he  was  Lucy's 
brother. 

'  George,  Mr.  MacKenzie  has  offered  to  take  you  with 
him  to  Africa/  she  said  eagerly.  '  Will  you  go  ?  ' 

'  I'll  go  anywhere  so  long  as  I  can  get  out  of  this 
beastly  country,'  he  answered  wearily.  *  I  f«el  people 


110  THE    EXPLORER 

are  looking  at  me  in  the  street  when  I  go  out,  and 
they're  saying  to  one  another:  there's  the  son  of  that 
swindling  rotter  who  was  sentenced  to  seven  years.' 

He  wiped  the  palms  of  his  hands  with  his  handker- 
chief. 

'  I  don't  mind  what  I  do.  I  can't  go  back  to  Oxford ; 
no  one  would  speak  to  me.  There's  nothing  I  can 
do  in  England  at  all.  I  wish  to  God  I  were  dead.' 

'  George,  don't  say  that/ 

'  It's  all  very  well  for  you.  You're  a  girl,  and  it 
doesn't  matter.  Do  you  suppose  anyone  would  trust 
me  with  sixpence  now?  Oh,  how  could  he?  How 
could  he  ? ' 

'  You  must  try  and  forget  it,  George,'  said  Lucy, 
gently. 

The  hoy  pulled  himself  together  and  gave  Alec  a 
charming  smile. 

'  It's  awfully  ripping  of  you  to  take  pity  on  me/ 

'  I  want  you  to  know  before  you  decide  that  you'll 
have  to  rough  it  all  the  time.  It'll  be  hard  and  dan- 
gerous work/ 

'  Well,  as  far  as  I'm  concerned  it's  Hobson's  choice, 
isn't  it? '  he  answered,  bitterly. 

Alec  held  out  his  hand,  with  one  of  his  rare,  quiet 
smiles. 

'  I  hope  we  shall  pull  well  together  and  be  good 
friends/ 

'  And  when  you  come  back,  George,  everything  will 
be  over.  I  wish  I  were  a  man  so  that  I  might  go  with 
you.  I  wish  I  had  your  chance.  You've  got  everything 
before  you,  George.  I  think  no  man  has  ever  had  such 
an  opportunity.  All  our  hope  is  in  you.  I  want  to  be 
proud  of  you.  All  my  self-respect  depends  on  you.  I 


THE    EXPLORER  111 

want  you  to  distinguish  yourself,  so  that  I  may  feel  once 
more  honest  and  strong  and  clean.' 

Her  voice  was  trembling  with  a  deep  emotion,  and 
George,  quick  to  respond,  flushed. 

'  I  am  a  selfish  beast,'  he  cried.  '  I've  been  thinking 
of  myself  all  the  time.  I've  never  given  a  thought  to 
you/ 

'  I  don't  want  you  to :  I  only  want  you  to  be  brave 
and  honest  and  steadfast.' 

The  tears  came  to  his  eyes,  and  he  put  his  arms 
around  her  neck.  He  nestled  against  her  heart  as  a 
child  might  have  done. 

'  It'll  be  awfully  hard  to  leave  you,  Lucy/ 

'  It'll  be  harder  for  me,  dear,  because  you  will  be  do- 
ing great  and  heroic  things,  while  I  shall  be  able  only 
to  wait  and  watch.  But  I  want  you  to  go.'  Her  voice 
broke,  and  she  spoke  almost  in  a  whisper.  '  And  don't 
forget  that  you're  going  for  my  sake  as  well  as  for  your 
own.  If  you  did  anything  wrong  or  disgraceful  it 
would  break  my  heart.' 

'  I  swear  to  you  that  you'll  never  be  ashamed  of  me, 
Lucy,'  he  said. 

She  kissed  him  and  smiled.  Alec  had  watched  them 
silently.  His  heart  was  very  full. 

'  But  we  mustn't  be  silly  and  sentimental,  or  Mr. 
MacKenzie  will  think  us  a  pair  of  fools/  She  looked 
at  him  gaily.  '  We're  both  very  grateful  to  you/ 

'  I'm  afraid  I'm  starting  almost  at  once,'  he  said. 
'  George  must  be  ready  in  a  week/ 

'  George  can  be  ready  in  twenty-four  hours  if  need 
be/  she  answered. 

The  boy  walked  towards  the  window  and  lit  a  cigar- 
ette. He  wanted  to  steady  his  nerves. 


112  THE   EXPLORER 

'  I'm  afraid  I  shall  be  able  to  see  little  of  you  during 
the  next  few  days/  said  Alec.  '  I  have  a  great  deal  to 
do,  and  I  must  run  up  to  Lancashire  for  the  week-end.' 

'  I'm  sorry.' 

'  Won't  you  change  your  mind  ?  ' 

She  shook  her  head. 

'  No,  I  can't  do  that.    I  must  have  complete  freedom.' 

'  And  when  I  come  back  ?  ' 

She  smiled  delightfully. 

*  When  you  come  back,  if  you  still  care,  ask  me  again/ 

'  And  the  answer  ? ' 

'  The  answer  perhaps  will  be  different/ 


VIII 

A  WEEK  later  Alec  MacKenzie  and  George  Allerton 
started  from  Charing  Cross.  They  were  to  go  by  P.  & 
0.  from  Marseilles  to  Aden,  and  there  catch  a  German 
boat  which  would  take  them  to  Mombassa.  Lady  Kel- 
sey  was  far  too  distressed  to  see  her  nephew  off;  and 
Lucy  was  glad,  since  it  gave  her  the  chance  of  driving 
to  the  station  alone  with  George.  She  found  Dick  Lo- 
mas  and  Mrs.  Crowley  already  there.  When  the  train 
steamed  away,  Lucy  was  standing  a  little  apart  from 
the  others.  She  was  quite  still.  She  did  not  even  wave 
her  hand,  and  there  was  little  expression  on  her 
face.  Mrs.  Crowley  was  crying  cheerfully,  and  she 
dried  her  eyes  with  a  tiny  handkerchief.  Lucy  turned 
to  her  and  thanked  her  for  coming. 

*  Shall  I  drive  you  back  in  the  carriage  ?  '  sobbed  Mrs. 
Crowley. 

1 1  think  I'll  take  a  cab,  if  you  don't  mind/  Lucy 
answered  quietly.  *  Perhaps  you'll  take  Dick.' 

She  did  not  bid  them  good-bye,  but  walked  slowly 
away. 

*  How  exasperating  you  people  are ! '  cried  Mrs.  Crow- 
ley.    '  I  wanted  to  throw  myself  in  her  arms  and  have 
a  good  cry  on  the  platform.     You  have  no  heart/ 

Dick  walked  along  by  her  side,  and  they  got  into 
Mrs.  Crowley's  carriage.  She  soliloquised. 

'  I  thank  God  that  I  have  emotions,  and  I  don't  mind 
if  I  do  show  them.  I  was  the  only  person  who  cried. 
I  knew  I  should  cry,  and  I  brought  three  handker- 
113  8 


114  THE    EXPLORER 

chiefs  on  purpose.  Look  at  them/  She  pulled  them 
out  of  her  bag  and  thrust  them  into  Dick's  hand. 
'  They're  soaking/ 

'  You  say  it  with  triumph/  he  smiled. 

'  I  think  you're  all  perfectly  heartless.  Those  two 
boys  were  going  away  for  heaven  knows  how  long  on  a 
dangerous  journey,  and  they  may  never  come  back,  and 
you  and  Lucy  said  good-bye  to  them  just  as  if  they 
were  going  off  for  a  day's  golf.  I  was  the  only  one  who 
said  I  was  sorry,  and  that  we  should  miss  them  dread- 
fully. I  hate  this  English  coldness.  When  I  go  to 
America,  it's  ten  to  one  nobody  comes  to  see  me  off, 
and  if  anyone  does  he  just  nods  and  says  "  Good-bye,  I 
hope  you'll  have  a  jolly  time/* ' 

'  Next  time  you  go  I  will  come  and  hurl  myself  on 
the  ground,  and  gnash  my  teeth  and  shriek  at  the  top 
of  my  voice/ 

'  Oh,  yes,  do.  And  then  I'll  cry  all  the  way  to  Liv- 
erpool, and  I  shall  have  a  racking  headache  and  feel 
quite  miserable  and  happy/ 

Dick  meditated  for  a  moment. 

'  You  see,  we  have  an  instinctive  horror  of  exhibiting 
our  emotion.  I  don't  know  why  it  is,  I  suppose  training 
or  the  inheritance  of  our  sturdy  fathers,  but  we're 
ashamed  to  let  people  see  what  we  feel.  But  I  don't 
know  whether  on  that  account  our  feelings  are  any  the 
less  keen.  Don't  you  think  there's  a  certain  beauty  in 
a  grief  that  forbids  itself  all  expression?  You  know,  I 
admire  Lucy  tremendously,  and  as  she  came  towards  us 
on  the  platform  I  thought  there  was  something  very  fine 
in  her  calmness/ 

'Fiddlesticks!'  said  Mrs.  Crowley,  sharply.  'I 
should  have  liked  her  much  better  if  she  had  clung  to 
her  brother  and  sobbed  and  had  to  be  torn  away/ 


THE    EXPLORER  115 

'  Did  you  notice  that  she  left  us  without  even  shaking 
hands  ?  It  was  a  very  small  omission,  but  it  meant  that 
she  was  quite  absorbed  in  her  grief/ 

They  reached  Mrs.  Crowley's  tiny  house  in  Norfolk 
Street,  and  she  asked  Dick  to  come  in. 

'  Sit  down  and  read  the  paper/  she  said,  '  while  I  go 
and  powder  my  nose.' 

Dick  made  himself  comfortable.  He  blessed  the 
charming  woman  when  a  butler  of  imposing  dimensions 
brought  in  all  that  was  necessary  to  make  a  cocktail. 
Mrs.  Crowley  cultivated  England  like  a  museum  speci- 
men. She  had  furnished  her  drawing-room  with  Chip- 
pendale furniture  of  an  exquisite  pattern.  No  chintzes 
were  so  smartly  calendered  as  hers,  and  on  the  walls 
were  mezzotints  of  the  ladies  whom  Sir  Joshua  had 
painted.  The  chimney-piece  was  adorned  with  Lowe- 
stoft  china,  and  on  the  silver  table  was  a  collection  of 
old  English  spoons.  She  had  chosen  her  butler  be- 
cause he  went  so  well  with  the  house.  His  respecta- 
bility was  portentous,  his  gravity  was  never  disturbed 
by  the  shadow  of  a  smile ;  and  Mrs.  Crowley  treated  him 
as  though  he  were  a  piece  of  decoration,  with  an  im- 
pertinence that  fascinated  him.  He  looked  upon  her 
as  an  outlandish  freak,  but  his  heavy  British  heart  was 
surrendered  to  her  entirely,  and  he  watched  over  her 
with  a  solicitude  that  amused  and  touched  her. 

Dick  thought  that  the  little  drawing-room  was  very 
comfortable,  and  when  Mrs.  Crowley  returned,  after  an 
unconscionable  time  at  the  toilet-table,  he  was  in  the 
happiest  mood.  She  gave  a  rapid  glance  at  the  glasses. 

*  You're  a  perfect  hero,'  she  said.  '  You've  waited 
till  I  came  down  to  have  your  cocktail/ 

'  Eichard  Lomas,  madam,  is  the  soul  of  courtesy,'  he 
replied,  with  a  flourish.  '  Besides,  base  is  the  ioul  that 


116  THE    EXPLORER 

drinks  in  the  morning  by  himself.  At  night,  in  your 
slippers  and  without  a  collar,  with  a  pipe  in  your  mouth 
and  a  good  book  in  your  hand,  a  solitary  glass  of  whisky 
and  soda  is  eminently  desirable;  but  the  anteprandial 
cocktail  needs  the  sparkle  of  conversation.' 

'  You  seem  to  be  in  excellent  health/  said  Mrs.  Crow- 
ley. 

'I  am.   Why?' 

<  I  saw  in  yesterday's  paper  that  your  doctor  had  or- 
dered you  to  go  abroad  for  the  rest  of  the  winter.' 

'  My  doctor  received  the  two  guineas,  and  I  wrote  the 
prescription/  returned  Dick.  '  Do  you  remember  that 
I  explained  to  you  the  other  day  at  length  my  intention 
of  retiring  into  private  life  ? ' 

*  I  do.     I  strongly  disapprove  of  it.' 

*  "Well,  I  was  convinced  that  if  I  relinquished  my 
duties  without  any  excuse  people  would  say  I  was  mad 
and  shut  me  up  in  a  lunatic  asylum.     I  invented  a 
breakdown  in  my  health,  and  everything  is  plain  sail- 
ing.   I've  got  a  pair  for  the  rest  of  the  session,  and  at 
the  general  election  the  excellent  Robert  Boulger  will 
step  into  my  unworthy  shoes.' 

'  And  supposing  you  regret  the  step  you've  taken  ?  ' 
'  In  my  youth  I  imagined,  with  the  romantic  fervour 
of  my  age,  that  in  life  everything  was  irreparable.  That 
is  a  delusion.  One  of  the  greatest  advantages  of  life  is 
that  hardly  anything  is.  One  can  make  ever  so  many 
fresh  starts.  The  average  man  lives  long  enough  for  a 
good  many  experiments,  and  it's  they  that  give  life  its 
savour.' 

'  I  don't  approve  of  this  flippant  way  you  talk  of 
life/  said  Mrs.  Crowley  severely.  '  It  seems  to  me 
something  infinitely  serious  and  complicated.' 


THE    EXPLORER  117 

'  That  is  an  illusion  of  moralists.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  it's  merely  what  you  make  it.  Mine  is  quite  light 
and  simple/ 

Mrs.  Crowley  looked  at  Dick  reflectively. 

*  I  wonder  why  you  never  married/  she  said. 

'  I  can  tell  you  easily.  Because  I  have  a  considerable 
gift  for  repartee.  I  discovered  in  my  early  youth  that 
men  propose  not  because  they  want  to  marry,  but  be- 
cause on  certain  occasions  they  are  entirely  at  a  loss 
for  topics  of  conversation.' 

'  It  was  a  momentous  discovery/  she  smiled. 

'  No  sooner  had  I  made  it  than  I  began  to  cultivate 
my  powers  of  small  talk.  I  felt  that  my  only  chance 
was  to  be  ready  with  appropriate  subjects  at  the  smallest 
notice,  and  I  spent  a  considerable  part  of  my  last  year 
at  Oxford  in  studying  the  best  masters/ 

'  I  never  r.oticra  that  you  were  particularly  brilliant/ 
murmured  Mrs.  Crowley,  raising  her  eyebrows. 

*  I  never  played  for  brilliancy,  I  played  for  safety.   I 
flatter  myself  that  when  prattle  was  needed,  I  have 
never  been  found  wanting.    I  have  met  the  ingenuous- 
ness of  sweet  seventeen  with  a  few  observations  on  Free 
Trade,  while  the  haggard  efforts  of  thirty  have  strug- 
gled in  vain  against  a  brief  exposition  of  the  higher 
philosophy/ 

e  When  people  talk  higher  philosophy  to  me  I  make 
it  a  definite  rule  to  blush/  said  Mrs.  Crowley. 

'  The  skittish  widow  of  uncertain  age  has  retired  in 
disorder  before  a  complete  acquaintance  with  the 
Eestoration  dramatists,  and  I  have  frequently  routed 
the  serious  spinster  with  religious  leanings  by  my  re- 
markable knowledge  of  the  results  of  missionary  en- 
deavour in  Central  Africa.  Once  a  dowager  sought  to 


118  THE    EXPLORER 

ask  me  my  intentions,  but  I  flung  at  her  astonished 
head  an  article  from  the  Encyclopedia  Brittanica.  An 
American  divorcee  swooned  when  I  poured  into  her 
shell-like  ear  a  few  facts  about  the  McKinley  Tariff. 
These  are  only  my  serious  efforts.  I  need  not  tell  you 
how  often  I  have  evaded  a  flash  of  the  eyes  by  an  epi- 
gram, or  ignored  a  sigh  by  an  apt  quotation  from  the 
poets/ 

'  I  don't  believe  a  word  you  say/  retorted  Mrs. 
Crowley.  '  I  believe  you  never  married  for  the  simple 
reason  that  nobody  would  have  you/ 

'  Do  me  the  justice  to  acknowledge  that  I'm  the  only 
man  who's  known  you  for  ten  days  without  being 
tempted  by  those  coal-mines  of  yours  in  Pennsylvania 
to  offer  you  his  hand  and  heart/ 

'  I  don't  believe  the  coal  has  anything  to  do  with  it,' 
answered  Mrs.  Crowley.  '  I  put  it  down  entirely  to  my 
very  considerable  personal  attractions/ 

Dick  looked  at  the  time  and  found  that  the  cocktail 
had  given  him  an  appetite.  He  asked  Mrs.  Crowley  if 
she  would  lunch  with  him,  and  gaily  they  set  out  for 
a  fashionable  restaurant.  Neither  of  them  gave  a 
thought  to  Alec  and  George  speeding  towards  the  un- 
known, nor  to  Lucy  shut  up  in  her  room,  given  over 
to  utter  misery. 

For  Lucy  it  was  the  first  of  many  dreary  days.  Dick 
went  to  Naples,  and  enjoying  his  new- won  idleness,  did 
not  even  write  to  her.  Mrs.  Crowley,  after  deciding  on 
a  trip  to  Egypt,  was  called  to  America  by  the  illness  of 
a  sister ;  and  Lady  Kelsey,  unable  to  stand  the  rigour  of 
a  Northern  winter,  set  out  for  Nice.  Lucy  refused  to 
accompany  her.  Though  she  knew  it  would  be  impossi- 


THE   EXPLORER  119 

ble  to  see  her  father,  she  could  not  bear  to  leave  Eng- 
land; she  could  not  face  the  gay  people  who  thronged 
the  Eiviera,  while  he  was  bound  to  degrading  tasks. 
The  luxury  of  her  own  life  horrified  her  when  she  com- 
pared it  with  his  hard  fare;  and  she  could  not  look 
upon  the  comfortable  rooms  she  lived  in,  with  their 
delicate  refinements,  without  thinking  of  the  bare  cell 
to  which  he  was  confined.  Lucy  was  glad  to  be  alone. 

She  went  nowhere,  but  passed  her  days  in  solitude, 
striving  to  acquire  peace  of  mind ;  she  took  long  walks 
in  the  parks  with  her  dogs,  and  spent  much  time  in  the 
picture  galleries.  Without  realising  the  effect  they  had 
upon  her,  she  felt  vaguely  the  calming  influence  of 
beautiful  things;  often  she  would  sit  in  the  National 
Gallery  before  some  royal  picture,  and  the  joy  of  it 
would  fill  her  soul  with  quiet  relief.  Sometimes  she 
would  go  to  those  majestic  statues  that  decorated  the 
pediment  of  the  Parthenon,  and  the  tears  welled  up  in 
her  clear  eyes  as  she  thanked  the  gods  for  the  gracious- 
ness  of  their  peace.  She  did  not  often  listen  to  music, 
for  then  she  could  remain  no  longer  mistress  of  her  emo- 
tions; the  tumultuous  sounds  of  a  symphony,  the  final 
anguish  of  Tristan,  made  vain  all  her  efforts  at  self- 
control;  and  when  she  got  home,  she  could  only  throw 
herself  on  her  bed  and  weep  passionately. 

In  reading  she  found  her  greatest  solace.  Many 
things  that  Alec  had  said  returned  dimly  to  her  mem- 
ory; and  she  began  to  read  the  Greek  writers  who  had 
so  profoundly  affected  him.  She  found  a  translation 
of  Euripides  which  gave  her  some  impression  of  the 
original,  and  her  constant  mood  was  answered  by  those 
old,  exquisite  tragedies.  The  complexity  of  that  great 
poet,  his  doubt,  despair,  and  his  love  of  beauty,  spoke 


120  THE    EXPLORER 

to  her  heart  as  no  modern  writer  could;  and  in  the 
study  of  those  sad  deeds,  in  which  men  seemed  always 
playthings  of  the  fates,  she  found  a  relief  to  her  own 
keen  sorrow.  She  did  not  reason  it  out  with  herself, 
but  almost  unconsciously  the  thought  came  to  her  that 
the  slings  and  arrows  of  the  gods  could  be  transformed 
into  beauty  by  resignation  and  courage.  Nothing  was 
irreparable  but  a  man's  own  weakness,  and  even  in 
shame,  disaster,  and  poverty,  it  was  possible  to  lead  a 
life  that  was  not  without  grandeur.  The  man  who  was 
beaten  to  the  ground  by  an  outrageous  fortune  might  be 
a  finer  thing  than  the  unseeing,  cruel  powers  that  con- 
quered him. 

It  was  in  this  wise  that  Lucy  battled  with  the  intol- 
erable shame  that  oppressed  her.  In  that  quiet  corner 
of  Hampshire  in  which  her  early  years  had  been  spent, 
among  the  memories  of  her  dead  kindred,  the  pride  of 
her  race  had  grown  to  unreasonable  proportions;  and 
now  in  the  reaction  she  was  terrified  lest  its  decadence 
was  in  her,  too,  and  in  George.  She  could  do  nothing 
but  suffer  whatever  pain  it  pleased  the  gods  to  send; 
but  George  was  a  man.  In  him  were  placed  all  her 
hopes.  But  now  and  again  wild  panic  seized  her.  Then 
the  agony  was  too  great  to  bear,  and  she  pressed  her 
hands  to  her  eyes  in  order  to  drive  away  the  hateful 
thought:  what  if  George  failed  her?  She  knew  well 
enough  that  he  had  his  father's  engaging  ways  and  his 
father's  handsome  face;  but  his  father  had  had  a  smile 
as  frank  and  a  charm  as  great.  What  if  with  the  son, 
too,  they  betokened  only  insincerity  and  weakness?  A 
malicious  devil  whispered  in  her  ear  that  now  and 
again  she  had  averted  her  eyes  in  order  not  to  see 
George  do  things  she  hated.  But  it  was  youth  that 


THE    EXPLORER  121 

drove  him.  She  had  taken  care  to  keep  from  him 
knowledge  of  the  sordid  struggles  that  occupied  her, 
and  how  could  she  wonder  if  he  was  reckless  and  un- 
caring? She  would  not  doubt  him,  she  could  not  doubt 
him,  for  if  anything  went  wrong  with  him  there  was  no 
hope  left.  She  could  only  cease  to  believe  in  herself. 

When  Lucy  was  allowed  to  write  to  her  father,  she 
set  herself  to  cheer  him.  The  thought  that  over  five 
years  must  elapse  before  she  would  have  him  by  her 
side  once  more,  paralysed  her  pen;  but  she  would  not 
allow  herself  to  be  discouraged.  And  she  sought  to 
give  courage  to  him.  She  wanted  him  to  see  that  her 
love  was  undiminished,  and  that  he  could  count  on  it. 
Presently  she  received  a  letter  from  him.  After  a  few 
weeks,  the  unaccustomed  food,  the  change  of  life,  had 
told  upon  him;  and  a  general  breakdown  in  his  health 
had  driven  him  into  the  infirmary.  Lucy  was  thank- 
ful for  the  respite  which  his  illness  afforded.  It  must 
be  a  little  less  dreary  in  a  prison  hospital  than  in  a 
prison  cell. 

A  letter  came  from  George,  and  another  from  Alec. 
Alec's  was  brief,  telling  of  their  journey  down  the  Eed 
Sea  and  their  arrival  at  Mombassa;  it  was  abrupt  and 
awkward,  making  no  reference  to  his  love,  or  to  the 
engagement  which  she  had  almost  promised  to  make 
when  he  returned.  He  began  and  ended  quite  formally. 
George,  apparently  in  the  best  of  spirits,  wrote  as  he 
always  did,  in  a  boyish,  inconsequent  fashion.  His  let- 
ter was  filled  with  slang  and  gave  no  news.  There  was 
little  to  show  that  it  was  written  from  Mombassa,  on 
the  verge  of  a  dangerous  expedition  into  the  interior, 
rather  than  from  Oxford  on  the  eve  of  a  football  match. 
But  she  read  them  over  and  over  again.  They  were 


im  THE    EXPLORER 

very  matter  of  fact,  and  she  smiled  as  she  thought  of 
Julia  Crowley's  indignation  if  she  had  seen  them. 

From  her  recollection  of  Alec's  words,  Lucy  tried  to 
make  out  the  scene  that  first  met  her  brother's  eyes. 
She  seemed  to  stand  by  his  side,  leaning  over  the  rail, 
as  the  ship  approached  the  harbour.  The  sea  was  blue 
with  a  blue  she  had  never  seen,  and  the  sky  was  like  an 
inverted  bowl  of  copper.  The  low  shore,  covered  with 
bush,  stretched  away  in  the  distance;  a  line  of  waves 
was  breaking  on  the  reef.  They  came  in  sight  of  the 
island  of  Mombassa,  with  the  overgrown  ruins  of  a 
battery  that  had  once  commanded  the  entrance;  and 
there  were  white-roofed  houses,  with  deep  verandas, 
which  stood  in  little  clearings  with  coral  cliffs  below 
them.  On  the  opposite  shore  thick  groves  of  palm-trees 
rose  with  their  singular,  melancholy  beauty.  Then  as 
the  channel  narrowed,  they  passed  an  old  Portuguese 
fort  which  carried  the  mind  back  to  the  bold  adventur- 
ers who  had  first  sailed  those  distant  seas,  and  directly 
afterwards  a  mass  of  white  buildings  that  reached  to  the 
edge  of  the  lapping  waves.  They  saw  the  huts  of  the 
native  town,  wattled  and  thatched,  nestling  close  to- 
gether; and  below  them  was  a  fleet  of  native  craft. 
On  the  jetty  was  the  African  crowd,  shouting  and 
jostling,  some  half-naked,  and  some  strangely  clad, 
Arabs  from  across  the  sea,  Swahilis,  and  here  and  there 
a  native  from  the  interior. 

In  course  of  time  other  letters  came  from  George, 
but  Alec  wrote  no  more.  The  days  passed  slowly.  Lady 
Kelsey  returned  from  the  Eiviera.  Dick  came  back 
from  Naples  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  the  London  sea- 
son. He  appeared  thoroughly  to  enjoy  his  idleness, 
signally  falsifying  the  predictions  of  those  who  had 


THE    EXPLORER  123 

told  him  that  it  was  impossible  to  be  happy  without 
regular  work.  Mrs.  Crowley  settled  down  once  more 
in  her  house  in  Norfolk  Street.  During  her  absence 
she  had  written  reams  by  every  post  to  Lucy,  and  Lucy 
had  looked  forward  very  much  to  seeing  her  again. 
The  little  American  was  almost  the  only  one  of  her 
friends  with  whom  she  did  not  feel  shy.  The  apart- 
ness which  her  nationality  gave  her,  made  Mrs.  Crowley 
more  easy  to  talk  to.  She  was  too  fond  of  Lucy  to 
pity  her.  The  general  election  came  before  it  was  ex- 
pected, and  Eobert  Boulger  succeeded  to  the  seat  which 
Dick  Lomas  was  only  too  glad  to  vacate.  Bobbie  was 
very  charming.  He  surrounded  Lucy  with  a  protect- 
ing care,  and  she  could  not  fail  to  be  touched  by  his 
entire  devotion.  When  he  thought  she  had  recovered 
somewhat  from  the  first  blow  of  her  father's  sentence, 
he  sent  her  a  letter  in  which  once  more  he  besought  her 
to  marry  him.  She  was  grateful  to  him  for  having 
chosen  that  method  of  expressing  himself,  for  it  seemed 
possible  in  writing  to  tell  him  with  greater  tenderness 
that  if  she  could  not  accept  his  love  she  deeply  valued 
his  affection. 

It  seemed  to  Lucy  that  the  life  she  led  in  London,  or 
at  Lady  Kelsey's  house  on  the  river,  was  no  more  than 
a  dream.  She  was  but  a  figure  in  the  procession  of 
shadow  pictures  cast  on  a  sheet  in  a  fair,  and  nothing 
that  she  did  signified.  Her  spirit  was  away  in  the  heart 
of  Africa,  and  by  a  vehement  effort  of  her  fancy  she 
sought  to  see  what  each  day  her  friend  and  her  brother 
were  doing. 

Now  they  had  long  left  the  railway  and  such  civilisa- 
tion as  was  to  be  found  in  the  lands  where  white  men 


124  THE    EXPLORER 

had  already  made  their  mark.  She  knew  the  exultation 
which  Alec  felt,  and  the  thrill  of  independence,  when 
he  left  behind  him  all  traces  of  it.  He  held  himself 
more  proudly  because  he  knew  that  thenceforward  he 
must  rely  on  his  own  resources,  and  success  or  failure 
depended  only  on  himself. 

Often  as  she  lay  awake  and  saw  the  ghostly  dawn 
steal  across  the  sky,  she  seemed  borne  to  the  African 
camp,  where  the  break  of  day,  like  a  gust  of  wind  in  a 
field  of  ripe  corn,  brought  a  sudden  stir  among  the 
sleepers.  Alec  had  described  to  her  so  minutely  the 
changing  scene  that  she  was  able  to  bring  it  vividly  be- 
fore her  eyes.  She  saw  him  come  out  of  his  tent,  in 
heavy  boots,  buckling  on  his  belt.  He  wore  knee- 
breeches  and  a  pith  helmet,  and  he  was  more  bronzed 
than  when  she  had  bidden  him  farewell.  He  gave  the 
order  to  the  headman  of  the  caravan  to  take  up  the 
loads.  At  the  word  there  was  a  rush  from  all  parts  of 
the  camp;  each  porter  seized  his  load,  carrying  it  off  to 
lash  on  his  mat  and  his  cooking-pot,  and  then,  sitting 
upon  it,  ate  a  few  grains  of  roasted  maize  or  the  remains 
of  last  night's  game.  And  as  the  sun  appeared  above 
the  horizon,  Alec,  as  was  his  custom,  led  the  way,  fol- 
lowed by  a  few  askari.  A  band  of  natives  struck  up  a 
strange  and  musical  chant,  and  the  camp,  but  now  a 
scene  of  busy  life,  was  deserted.  The  smouldering  fires 
died  out  with  the  rising  sun,  and  the  silent  life  of  the 
forest  replaced  the  chatter  and  the  hum  of  buman  kind. 
Giant  beetles  came  from  every  quarter  and  carried  away 
pieces  of  offal;  small  shy  beasts  stole  out  to  gnaw  the 
white  bones  upon  which  savage  teeth  had  left  but  little ; 
a  gaunt  hyena,  with  suspicious  looks,  snatched  at  a 
bone  and  dashed  back  into  the  jungle.  Vultures  set- 


THE    EXPLORER  125 

tied  down  heavily,  and  with  deliberate  air  sought  out 
the  foulest  refuse. 

Then  Lucy  followed  Alec  upon  his  march,  with  his 
fighting  men  and  his  long  string  of  porters.  They  went 
along  a  narrow  track,  pushing  their  way  through  bushes 
and  thorns,  or  tall  rank  grass,  sometimes  with  difficulty 
forcing  through  elephant  reeds  which  closed  over  their 
heads  and  showered  the  cold  dew  down  on  their  faces. 
Sometimes  they  passed  through  villages,  with  rich  soil 
and  extensive  population;  sometimes  they  plunged  into 
heavy  forests  of  gigantic  trees,  festooned  with  creepers, 
where  the  silence  was  unbroken  even  by  the  footfall  of 
the  traveller  on  the  bottomless  carpet  of  leaves;  some- 
times they  traversed  vast  swamps,  hurrying  to  avoid  the 
deadly  fever,  and  sometimes  scrub  jungles,  in  which  as 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach  was  a  forest  of  cactus  and 
thorn  bush.  Sometimes  they  made  their  way  through 
grassy  uplands  with  trees  as  splendid  as  those  of  an 
English  park,  and  sometimes  they  toiled  painfully  along 
a  game-track  that  ran  by  the  bank  of  a  swift-rushing 
river. 

At  midday  a  halt  was  called.  The  caravan  had 
opened  out  by  then;  men  who  were  sick  or  had  stopped 
to  adjust  a  load,  others  who  were  weak  or  lazy,  had 
lagged  behind ;  but  at  last  they  were  all  there ;  and  the 
rear  guard,  perhaps  with  George  in  charge  of  it,  whose 
orders  were  on  no  account  to  allow  a  single  man  to  re- 
main behind  them,  reported  that  no  one  was  missing. 
During  the  heat  of  noon  they  made  fires  and  cooked 
food.  Presently  they  set  off  once  more  and  marched  till 
sundown. 

When  they  reached  the  place  which  had  been  fixed  on 
for  camping,  a  couple  of  shots  were  fired  as  signals; 


126  THE    EXPLORER 

and  soon  the  natives,  men  and  women,  began  to  stream 
in  with  little  baskets  of  grain  or  flour,  with  potatoes 
and  chickens,  and  perhaps  a  pot  or  two  of  honey.  Very 
quickly  the  tents  were  pitched,  the  bed  gear  arranged, 
the  loads  counted  and  stacked.  The  party  whose  duty  it 
was  to  construct  the  zeriba  cut  down  boughs  and  dragged 
them  in  to  form  a  fence.  Each  little  band  of  men  se- 
lected the  site  for  their  bivouac;  one  went  off  to  collect 
materials  to  build  the  huts,  another  to  draw  water,  a 
third  for  firewood  and  stones,  on  which  to  place  the 
cooking-pot.  At  sunset  the  headman  blew  his  whistle 
and  asked  if  all  were  present.  A  lusty  chorus  replied. 
He  reported  to  his  chief  and  received  the  orders  for  the 
next  day's  march. 

Alec  had  told  Lucy  that  from  the  cry  that  goes  up  in 
answer  to  the  headman's  whistle,  you  could  always  gauge 
the  spirit  of  the  men.  If  game  had  been  shot,  or  from 
scarcity  the  caravan  had  come  to  a  land  of  plenty,  there 
was  a  perfect  babel  of  voices.  But  if  the  march  had 
been  long  and  hard,  or  if  food  had  been  issued  for  a 
number  of  days,  of  which  this  was  the  last,  isolated 
voices  replied;  and  perhaps  one,  bolder  than  the  rest, 
cried  out:  I  am  hungry. 

Then  Alec  and  George,  and  the  others  sat  down  to 
their  evening  meal,  while  the  porters,  in  little  parties, 
were  grouped  around  their  huge  pots  of  porridge.  A 
little  chat,  a  smoke,  an  exchange  of  sporting  anecdotes, 
and  the  white  men  turned  in.  And  Alec,  gazing  on 
the  embers  of  his  camp  fire  was  alone  with  his  thoughts : 
the  silence  of  the  night  was  upon  him,  and  he  looked 
up  at  the  stars  that  shone  in  their  countless  myriads  in 
the  blue  African  sky.  Lucy  got  up  and  stood  at  her 
open  window.  She,  too,  looked  up  at  the  sky,  and  she 


THE    EXPLORER  127 

thought  that  she  saw  the  same  stars  as  he  did.  Now 
in  that  last  half  hour,  free  from  the  burden  of  the  day, 
with  everyone  at  rest,  he  could  give  himself  over  to 
his  thoughts,  and  his  thoughts  surely  were  of  her. 

During  the  months  that  had  passed  since  Alec  left 
England,  Lucy's  love  had  grown.  In  her  solitude  there 
was  nothing  else  to  give  brightness  to  her  life,  and  little 
by  little  it  filled  her  heart.  Her  nature  was  so  strong 
that  she  could  do  nothing  by  half  measures,  and  it  was 
with  a  feeling  of  extreme  relief  that  she  surrendered 
herself  to  this  overwhelming  passion.  It  seemed  to  her 
that  she  was  growing  in  a  different  direction.  The 
yearning  of  her  soul  for  someone  on  whom  to  lean  was 
satisfied  at  last.  Hitherto  the  only  instincts  that  had 
been  fostered  in  her  were  those  that  had  been  useful  to 
her  father  and  George;  they  had  needed  her  courage 
and  her  self-reliance.  It  was  very  comfortable  to  de- 
pend entirely  upon  Alec's  love.  Here  she  could  be  weak, 
here  she  could  find  a  greater  strength  which  made  her 
own  seem  puny.  Lucy's  thoughts  were  absorbed  in  the 
man  whom  really  she  knew  so  little.  She  exulted  in 
his  unselfish  striving  and  in  his  firmness  of  purpose, 
and  when  she  compared  herself  with  him  she  felt  un- 
worthy. She  treasured  every  recollection  she  had  of 
him.  She  went  over  in  her  mind  all  that  she  had  heard 
him  say,  and  reconstructed  the  conversations  they  had 
had  together.  She  walked  where  they  had  walked,  re- 
membering how  the  sky  had  looked  on  those  days  and 
what  flowers  then  bloomed  in  the  parks;  she  visited 
the  galleries  they  had  seen  in  one  another's  company, 
and  stood  before  the  pictures  which  he  had  lingered  at. 
And  notwithstanding  all  there  was  to  torment  and 


128  THE    EXPLORER 

humiliate  her,  she  was  happy.  Something  had  come 
into  her  life  which  made  all  else  tolerable.  It  was 
easy  to  bear  the  extremity  of  grief  when  he  loved  her. 

After  a  long  time  Dick  received  a  letter  from  Alec. 
MacKenzie  was  not  a  good  letter-writer.  He  had  no 
gift  of  self-expression,  and  when  he  had  a  pen  in  his 
hand  seemed  to  be  seized  with  an  invincible  shyness. 
The  letter  was  dry  and  wooden.  It  was  dated  from 
the  last  trading-station  before  he  set  out  into  the  wild 
country  which  was  to  be  the  scene  of  his  operations. 
It  said  that  hitherto  everything  had  gone  well  with  him, 
and  the  white  men,  but  for  fever  occasionally,  were 
bearing  the  climate  well.  One,  named  Macinnery,  had 
made  a  nuisance  of  himself,  and  had  been  sent  back 
to  the  coast.  Alec  gave  no  reasons  for  this  step.  He 
had  been  busy  making  the  final  arrangements.  A  com- 
pany had  been  formed,  the  North  East  Africa  Trading 
Company,  to  exploit  the  commercial  possibilities  of 
these  unworked  districts,  and  a  charter  had  been  given 
them;  but  the  unsettled  state  of  the  land  had  so  ham- 
pered them  that  the  directors  had  gladly  accepted  Alec's 
offer  to  join  their  forces  with  his,  and  the  traders  at 
their  stations  had  been  instructed  to  take  service  under 
him.  This  increased  the  white  men  under  his  command 
to  sixteen.  He  had  drilled  the  Swahilis  whom  he  had 
brought  from  the  coast,  and  given  them  guns,  so  that  he 
had  now  an  armed  force  of  four  hundred  men.  He 
was  collecting  levies  from  the  native  tribes,  and  he 
gave  the  outlandish  names  of  the  chiefs,  armed  with 
spears,  who  were  to  accompany  him.  The  power  of  Mo- 
hammed the  Lame  was  on  the  wane;  for,  during  the 
three  months  which  Alec  had  spent  in  England,  an  ill- 
ness had  seized  him,  which  the  natives  asserted  was  a 


THE   EXPLORER  129 

magic  spell  cast  on  him  by  one  of  his  wives;  and  a  son 
of  his,  taking  advantage  of  this,  had  revolted  and  forti- 
fied himself  in  a  stockade.  The  dying  Sultan  had 
taken  the  field  against  him,  and  this  division  of  forces 
made  Alec's  position  immeasurably  stronger. 

Dick  handed  Lucy  the  letter,  and  watched  her  while 
she  read  it. 

'  He  says  nothing  about  George/  he  said. 

'  He's  evidently  quite  well.' 

Though  it  seemed  strange  that  Alec  made  no  mention 
of  the  boy,  Dick  said  no  more.  Lucy  appeared  to  be 
satisfied,  and  that  was  the  chief  thing.  But  he  could 
not  rid  his  mind  of  a  certain  uneasiness.  He  had  re- 
ceived with  misgiving  Lucy's  plan  that  George  should 
accompany  Alec.  He  could  not  help  wondering  whether 
those  frank  blue  eyes  and  that  facile  smile  did  not  con- 
ceal a  nature  as  shallow  as  Fred  Allerton's.  But,  after 
all,  it  was  the  boy's  only  chance,  and  he  must  take  it. 

Then  an  immense  silence  followed.  Alec  disappeared 
into  those  unknown  countries  as  a  man  disappears  into 
the  night,  and  no  more  was  heard  of  him.  None  knew 
how  he  fared.  Not  even  a  rumour  reached  the  coast  of 
success  or  failure.  When  he  had  crossed  the  mountains 
that  divided  the  British  protectorate  from  the  lands 
that  were  to  all  intents  independent,  he  vanished  with 
his  followers  from  human  ken.  The  months  passed, 
and  there  was  nothing.  It  was  a  year  now  since  he  had 
arrived  at  Mombassa,  then  it  was  a  year  since  the  last 
letter  had  come  from  him.  It  was  only  possible  to 
guess  that  behind  those  gaunt  rocks  fierce  battles  were 
fought,  new  lands  explored,  and  the  slavers  beaten  back 
foot  by  foot.  Dick  sought  to  persuade  himself  that 


150  THE   EXPLORER 

the  silence  was  encouraging,  for  it  seemed  to  him  that  if 
the  expedition  had  been  cut  to  pieces  the  rejoicing  of 
the  Arabs  would  have  spread  itself  abroad,  and  some 
news  of  a  disaster  would  have  travelled  through  Somali- 
land  to  the  coast,  or  been  carried  by  traders  to  Zanzi- 
bar. He  made  frequent  inquiries  at  the  Foreign  Office, 
but  there,  too,  nothing  was  known.  The  darkness  had 
fallen  upon  them. 

But  Lucy  suffered  neither  from  anxiety  nor  fear. 
She  had  an  immense  confidence  in  Alec,  and  she  be- 
lieved in  his  strength,  his  courage,  and  his  star.  He 
had  told  her  that  he  would  not  return  till  he  had  ac- 
complished his  task,  and  she  expected  to  hear  nothing 
till  he  had  brought  it  to  a  triumphant  conclusion.  She 
did  her  little  to  help  him.  For  at  length  the  directors 
of  the  North  East  Africa  Trading  Company,  growing 
anxious,  proposed  to  get  a  question  asked  in  Parlia- 
ment, or  to  start  an  outcry  in  the  newspapers  which 
should  oblige  the  government  to  send  out  a  force  to  re- 
lieve Alec  if  he  were  in  difficulties,  or  avenge  him  if  he 
were  dead.  But  Lucy  knew  that  there  was  nothing  Alec 
dreaded  more  than  official  interference.  He  was  con- 
vinced that  if  this  work  could  be  done  at  all,  he  alone 
could  do  it;  and  she  influenced  Eobert  Boulger  and  Dick 
Lomas  to  use  such  means  as  they  could  to  prevent  any- 
thing from  being  done.  She  was  certain  that  all  Alec 
needed  was  time  and  a  free  hand. 


IX 


BUT  the  monotonous  round  of  Lucy's  life,  with  its 
dreams  and  its  fond  imaginings,  was  interrupted  by 
news  of  a  different  character.  An  official  letter  came 
to  her  from  Parkhurst  to  say  that  the  grave  state  of  her 
father's  health  had  decided  the  authorities  to  remit  the 
rest  of  his  sentence,  and  he  would  he  set  free  the  next 
day  but  one  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning.  She  knew 
not  whether  to  feel  relief  or  sorrow;  for  if  she  was 
thankful  that  the  wretched  man's  long  torture  was 
ended,  she  could  not  but  realise  that  his  liberty  was 
given  him  only  because  he  was  dying.  Mercy  had  been 
shown  him,  and  Fred  Allerton,  in  sight  of  a  freedom 
from  which  no  human  laws  could  bar  him,  was  given 
up  to  die  among  those  who  loved  him. 

Lucy  went  down  immediately  to  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
and  there  engaged  rooms  in  the  house  of  a  woman  who 
had  formerly  served  her  at  Hamlyn's  Purlieu. 

It  was  midwinter,  and  a  cold  drizzle  was  falling 
when  she  waited  for  him  at  the  prison  gates.  Three 
years  had  passed  since  they  had  parted.  She  took  him 
in  her  arms  and  kissed  him  silently.  Her  heart  was 
too  full  for  words.  A  carriage  was  waiting  for  them, 
and  she  drove  to  the  lodging-house ;  breakfast  was  ready, 
and  Lucy  had  seen  that  good  things  which  he  liked 
should  be  ready  for  him  to  eat.  Fred  Allerton  looked 
wistfully  at  the  clean  table-cloth,  and  at  the  flowers 
and  the  dainty  scones;  but  he  shook  his  head.  He  did 
131 


132  THE    EXPLORER 

not  speak,  and  the  tears  ran  slowly  down  his  cheeks. 
He  sank  wearily  into  a  chair.  Lucy  tried  to  induce 
him  to  eat ;  she  brought  him  a  cup  of  tea,  but  he  put  it 
away.  He  looked  at  her  with  haggard,  bloodshot  eyes. 

'  Give  me  the  flowers/  he  muttered. 

They  were  his  first  words.  There  was  a  large  bowl 
of  daffodils  in  the  middle  of  the  table,  and  she  took 
them  out  of  the  water,  deftly  dried  their  stalks,  and 
gave  them  to  him.  He  took  them  with  trembling  hands 
and  pressed  them  to  his  heart,  then  he  buried  his  face 
in  them,  and  the  tears  ran  afresh,  bedewing  the  yellow 
flowers. 

Lucy  put  her  arm  around  her  father's  neck  and  placed 
her  cheek  against  his. 

'  Don't,  father/  she  whispered.  '  You  must  try  and 
forget/ 

He  leaned  back,  exhausted,  and  the  pretty  flowers  fell 
at  his  feet. 

'  You  know  why  they've  let  me  out  ? '  he  said. 

She  kissed  him,  but  did  not  answer. 

'  I'm  so  glad  that  we're  together  again/  she  mur- 
mured. 

'  It's  because  I'm  going  to  die/ 

'  No,  you  mustn't  die.  In  a  little  while  you'll  get 
strong  again.  You  have  many  years  before  you,  and 
you'll  be  very  happy/ 

He  gave  her  a  long,  searching  look;  and  when  he 
spoke,  his  voice  had  a  hollowness  in  it  that  was  strangely 
terrifying. 

*  Do  you  think  I  want  to  live  ?  ' 

The  pain  seemed  almost  greater  than  Lucy  could 
bear,  and  for  a  moment  she  had  to  remain  silent  10  that 
her  voice  might  grow  steady. 


THE    EXPLORER  133 

'  You  must  live  for  my  sake/ 

'  Don't  you  hate  me  ? '  he  asked. 

'  No,  I  love  you  more  than  I  ever  did.  I  shall  never 
cease  to  love  you/ 

'  I  suppose  no  one  would  marry  you  while  I  was  in 
prison/ 

His  remark  was  so  inconsequent  that  Lucy  found 
nothing  to  say.  He  gave  a  bitter,  short  laugh. 

*  I  ought  to  have  shot  myself.  Then  people  would 
have  forgotten  all  about  it,  and  you  might  have  had  a 
chance.  Why  didn't  you  marry  Bobbie  ? ' 

'  I  haven't  wanted  to  marry/ 

He  was  so  tired  that  he  could  only  speak  a  little  at  a 
time,  and  now  he  closed  his  eyes.  Lucy  thought  that 
he  was  dozing,  and  began  to  pick  up  the  fallen  flowers. 
But  he  noticed  what  she  was  doing. 

'  Let  me  hold  them,'  he  moaned,  with  the  pleading 
quaver  of  a  sick  child. 

As  she  gave  them  to  him  once  more,  he  took  her 
hands  and  began  to  caress  them. 

'  The  only  thing  for  me  is  to  hurry  up  and  finish  with 
life.  I'm  in  the  way.  Nobody  wants  me,  and  I  shall 
only  be  a  burden.  I  didn't  want  them  to  let  me  go.  I 
wanted  to  die  there  quietly/ 

Lucy  sighed  deeply.  She  hardly  recognised  her  father 
in  the  bent,  broken  man  who  was  sitting  beside  her. 
He  had  aged  very  much  and  seemed  now  to  be  an  old 
man,  but  it  was  a  premature  aging,  and  there  was  a 
horror  in  it  as  of  a  process  contrary  to  nature.  He  was 
very  thin,  and  his  hands  trembled  constantly.  Most  of 
his  teeth  had  gone;  his  cheeks  were  sunken,  and  he 
mumbled  his  words  so  that  it  was  difficult  to  distinguish 
them.  There  was  no  light  in  his  eyes,  and  his  short 


134  THE    EXPLORER 

hair  was  quite  white.  Xow  and  again  he  was  shaken 
with  a  racking  cough,  and  this  was  followed  by  an  at- 
tack of  such  pain  in  his  heart  that  it  was  anguish  even 
to  watch  it.  The  room  was  warm,  but  he  shivered  with 
cold  and  cowered  over  the  roaring  fire. 

When  the  doctor  whom  Lucy  had  sent  for,  saw  him, 
he  could  only  shrug  his  shoulders. 

'  I'm  afraid  nothing  can  be  done/  he  said.  '  His 
heart  is  all  wrong,  and  he's  thoroughly  broken  up/ 

*  Is  there  no  chance  of  recovery  ?  ' 

*  I'm  afraid  all  we  can  do  is  to  alleviate  the  pain/ 
'  And  how  long  can  he  live  ?  ' 

*  It's  impossible  to  say.     He  may  die  to-morrow,  he 
may  last  six  months/ 

The  doctor  was  an  old  man,  and  his  heart  was 
touched  by  the  sight  of  Lucy's  grief.  He  had  seen  more 
cases  than  one  of  this  kind. 

'  He  doesn't  want  to  live.  It  will  be  a  mercy  when 
death  releases  him/ 

Lucy  did  not  answer.  When  she  returned  to  her 
father,  she  could  not  speak.  He  was  apathetic  and  did 
not  ask  what  the  doctor  had  said.  Lady  Kelsey,  hat- 
ing the  thought  of  Lucy  and  her  father  living  amid 
the  discomfort  of  furnished  lodgings,  had  written  to 
offer  the  use  of  her  house  in  Charles  Street;  and  Mrs. 
Crowley,  in  case  they  wanted  complete  solitude,  had  put 
Court  Leys  at  their  disposal.  Lucy  waited  a  few  days 
to  see  whether  her  father  grew  stronger,  but  no  change 
was  apparent  in  him,  and  it  seemed  necessary  at  last 
to  make  some  decision.  She  put  before  him  the  alter- 
native plans,  but  he  would  have  none  of  them. 

'  Then  would  you  rather  stay  here  ? '  she  said. 

He  looked  at  the  fire  and  did  not  answer.     Lucy 


THE    EXPLORER  185 

thought  the  sense  of  her  question  had  escaped  him,  for 
often  it  appeared  to  her  that  his  mind  wandered.  She 
•was  on  the  point  of  repeating  it  when  he  spoke. 

'I  want  to  go  back  to  the  Purlieu.' 

Lucy  stifled  a  gasp  of  dismay.  She  stared  at  the 
wretched  man.  Had  he  forgotten?  He  thought  that 
the  house  of  his  fathers  was  his  still;  and  all  that  had 
parted  him  from  it  was  gone  from  his  memory.  How 
could  she  tell  him? 

e  I  want  to  die  in  my  own  home/  he  faltered. 

Lucy  was  in  a  turmoil  of  anxiety.  She  must  make 
some  reply.  What  he  asked  was  impossible,  and  yet  it 
was  cruel  to  tell  him  the  whole  truth. 

'  There  are  people  living  there,'  she  answered. 

'  Are  there  ?  '  he  said,  indifferently. 

He  looked  at  the  fire  still.    The  silence  was  dreadful. 

f  When  can  we  go  ?  '  he  said  at  last.  *  I  want  to  get 
there  quickly/ 

Lucy  hesitated. 

'  We  shall  have  to  go  into  rooms.' 

'  I  don't  mind/ 

He  seemed  to  ta.'*e  everything  as  a  matter  of  course. 
It  was  clear  that  he  had  forgotten  the  catastrophe  that 
had  parted  him  from  Hamlyn's  Purlieu,  and  yet, 
strangely,  he  asked  no  questions.  Lucy  was  tortured 
by  the  thought  of  revisiting  the  place  she  loved  so  well. 
She  had  been  able  to  deaden  her  passionate  regret  only 
by  keeping  her  mind  steadfastly  averted  from  all 
thoughts  of  it,  and  now  she  must  actually  go  there. 
The  old  wounds  would  be  opened.  But  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  refuse,  and  she  set  about  making  the  necessary 
arrangements.  The  rector,  who  had  been  given  the 
living  by  Fred  Allerton,  was  an  old  friend,  and  Lucy 


136  THE    EXPLORER 

knew  that  she  could  trust  in  his  affection.  She  wrote 
and  told  him  that  her  father  was  dying  and  had  set  his 
heart  on  seeing  once  more  his  old  home.  She  asked 
him  to  find  rooms  in  one  of  the  cottages.  She  did 
not  mind  how  small  nor  how  humble  they  were.  The 
rector  answered  by  telegram.  He  begged  Lucy  to  bring 
her  father  to  stay  with  him.  She  would  be  more  com- 
fortable than  in  lodgings,  and,  since  he  was  a  bachelor, 
there  was  plenty  of  room  in  the  large  rectory.  Lucy, 
immensely  touched  by  his  kindness,  gratefully  accepted 
the  invitation. 

Next  day  they  took  the  short  journey  across  the  So- 
lent. 

The  rector  had  been  a  don,  and  Fred  Allerton  had 
offered  him  the  living  in  accordance  with  the  family 
tradition  that  required  a  man  of  attainments  to  live 
in  the  neighbouring  rectory.  He  had  been  there  now 
for  many  years,  a  spare,  grey-haired,  gentle  creature, 
who  lived  the  life  of  a  recluse  in  that  distant  village, 
doing  his  duty  exactly,  but  given  over  for  the  most  part 
to  his  beloved  books.  He  seldom  went  away.  The 
monotony  of  his  daily  round  was  broken  only  by  the 
occasional  receipt  of  a  parcel  of  musty  volumes,  which 
he  had  ordered  to  be  bought  for  him  at  some  sale.  He 
was  a  man  of  varied  learning,  full  of  remote  informa- 
tion, eccentric  from  his  solitariness,  but  with  a  great 
sweetness  of  nature.  His  life  was  simple,  and  his  wants 
were  few. 

In  this  house,  in  rooms  lined  from  floor  to  ceiling 
with  old  books,  Lucy  and  her  father  took  up  their 
abode.  It  seemed  that  Fred  Allerton  had  been  kept 
tip  only  by  the  desire  to  get  back  to  his  native  place, 
for  he  had  no  sooner  arrived  than  he  grew  much  worse. 


THE    EXPLORER  137 

Lucy  was  busily  occupied  with  nursing  him  and  could 
give  no  time  to  the  regrets  which  she  had  imagined 
would  assail  her.  She  spent  long  hours  in  her  father's 
room ;  and  while  he  dozed,  half-comatose,  the  kindly  par- 
son sat  by  the  window  and  read  to  her  in  a  low  voice 
from  queer,  forgotten  works. 

One  day  Allerton  appeared  to  be  far  better.  For  a 
week  he  had  wandered  much  in  his  mind,  and  mor? 
than  once  Lucy  had  suspected  that  the  end  was  near: 
but  now  he  was  singularly  lucid.  He  wanted  to  gel 
up,  and  Lucy  felt  it  would  be  brutal  to  balk  any  wish 
he  had.  He  asked  if  he  might  go  out.  The  day  was 
fine  and  warm.  It  was  February,  and  there  was  a  feel- 
ing in  the  air  as  if  the  spring  were  at  hand.  In  sheltered 
places  the  snowdrops  and  the  crocuses  gave  the  garden 
the  blitheness  of  an  Italian  picture;  and  you  felt  that 
on  that  multi-coloured  floor  might  fitly  trip  the  delicate 
angels  of  Messer  Perugino.  The  rector  had  an  old 
pony-chaise,  in  which  he  was  used  to  visit  his  parishion- 
ers, and  in  this  all  three  drove  out. 

'  Let  us  go  down  to  the  marshes/  said  Allerton. 

They  drove  slowly  along  the  winding  road  till 
they  came  to  the  broad  salt  marshes.  Beyond  glit- 
tered the  placid  sea.  There  was  no  wind.  Near  them 
a  cow  looked  up  from  her  grazing  and  lazily  whisked  her 
tail.  Lucy's  heart  began  to  beat  more  quickly.  She  felt 
that  her  father,  too,  looked  upon  that  scene  as  the  most 
typical  of  his  home.  Other  places  had  broad  acres 
and  fine  trees,  other  places  had  forest  land  and  purple 
heather,  but  there  was  something  in  those  green  flats 
that  made  them  seem  peculiarly  their  own.  She  took 
her  father's  hand,  and  silently  their  eyes  looked  on- 
wards. A  more  peaceful  look  came  into  Fred  Allerton's 


138  THE    EXPLORER 

worn  face,  and  the  sigh  that  broke  from  him  was  not 
altogether  of  pain.  Lucy  prayed  that  it  might  still  re- 
main hidden  from  him  that  those  fair,  broad  fields  were 
his  no  longer. 

That  night,  she  had  an  intuition  that  death  was  at 
hand.  Fred  Allerton  was  very  silent.  Since  his  re- 
lease from  prison  he  had  spoken  barely  a  dozen  sen- 
tences a  day,  and  nothing  served  to  wake  him  from  his 
lethargy.  But  there  was  a  curious  restlessness  about 
him  now,  and  he  would  not  go  to  bed.  He  sat  in  an 
armchair,  and  begged  them  to  draw  it  near  the  win- 
dow. The  sky  was  cloudless,  and  the  moon  shone 
brightly.  Fred  Allerton  could  see  the  great  old  elms 
that  surrounded  Hamlyn's  Purlieu;  and  his  eyes  were 
fixed  steadily  upon  them.  Lucy  saw  them,  toe,  and 
she  thought  sadly  of  the  garden  which  she  had  loved  so 
well,  and  of  the  dear  trees  which  old  masters  of  the 
place  had  tended  so  lovingly.  Her  heart  filled  when 
she  thought  of  the  grey  stone  house  and  its  happy, 
spacious  rooms. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  sound,  and  she  looked  up 
quickly.  Her  father's  head  had  fallen  back,  and  he 
was  breathing  with  a  strange  noisiness.  She  called  her 
friend. 

'  I  think  the  end  has  come  at  last/  she  said. 

'  Would  you  like  me  to  fetch  the  doctor  ? ' 

'  It  will  be  useless.' 

The  rector  looked  at  the  man's  wan  face,  lit  dimly 
by  the  light  of  the  shaded  lamp,  and  falling  on  his 
knees,  began  to  recite  the  prayers  for  the  dying.  A 
shiver  passed  through  Lucy.  In  the  farmyard  a  cock 
crew,  and  in  the  distance  another  cock  answered  cheer- 
ily. Lucy  put  her  hand  on  the  good  rector's  shoulder. 


THE    EXPLORER  139 

'  It's  all  over/  she  whispered. 

She  bent  down  and  kissed  her  father's  eyes. 

A  week  later  Lucy  took  a  walk  by  the  seashore.  They 
had  buried  Fred  Allerton  three  days  before  among  the 
ancestors  whom  he  had  dishonoured.  It  was  a  lonely 
funeral,  for  Lucy  had  asked  Kobert  Boulger,  her  only 
friend  then  in  England,  not  to  come;  and  she  was  the 
solitary  mourner.  The  coffin  was  lowered  into  the 
grave,  and  the  rector  read  the  sad,  beautiful  words  of  the 
burial  service.  She  could  not  grieve.  Her  father  was 
at  peace.  She  could  only  hope  that  his  errors  and  his 
crimes  would  be  soon  forgotten ;  and  perhaps  those  who 
had  known  him  would  remember  then  that  he  had  been 
a  charming  friend,  and  a  clever,  sympathetic  compan- 
ion. It  was  little  enough  in  all  conscience  that  Lucy 
asked. 

On  the  morrow  she  was  leaving  the  roof  of  the  hos- 
pitable parson.  Surmising  her  wish  to  walk  alone  once 
more  through  the  country  which  was  so  dear  to  her,  he 
had  not  offered  his  company.  Lucy's  heart  was  full  of 
sadness,  but  there  was  a  certain  peace  in  it,  too;  the 
peace  of  her  father's  death  had  entered  into  her,  and 
she  experienced  a  new  feeling,  the  feeling  of  resigna- 
tion. 

Now  her  mind  was  set  upon  the  future,  and  she  was 
filled  with  hope.  She  stood  by  the  water's  edge,  look- 
ing upon  the  sea  as  three  years  before,  when  she  was 
staying  at  Court  Leys,  she  had  looked  upon  the  sea  that 
washed  the  shores  of  Kent.  Many  things  had  passed 
since  then,  and  many  griefs  had  fallen  upon  her ;  but  for 
all  that  she  was  happier  than  then;  since  on  that  dis- 
tant day — and  it  seemed  ages  ago — there  had  been 


140  THE    EXPLORER 

scarcely  a  ray  of  brightness  in  her  life,  and  now  she 
had  a  great  love  which  made  every  burden  light. 

Low  clouds  hung  upon  the  sky,  and  on  the  horizon 
the  greyness  of  the  heavens  mingled  with  the  greyness 
of  the  sea.  She  looked  into  the  distance  with  longing 
eyes.  Now  all  her  life  was  set  upon  that  far-off  corner 
of  unknown  Africa,  where  Alec  and  George  were  doing 
great  deeds.  She  wondered  what  was  the  meaning  of 
the  silence  which  had  covered  them  so  long. 

'  Oh,  if  I  could  only  see/  she  murmured. 

She  sent  her  spirit  upon  that  vast  journey,  trying  to 
pierce  the  realms  of  space,  but  her  spirit  came  back 
baffled.  She  could  not  know  what  they  were  at. 

If  Lucy's  love  had  been  able  to  bridge  the  abyss  that 
parted  them,  if  in  some  miraculous  way  she  had  been 
able  to  see  what  actions  they  did  at  that  time,  she 
would  have  witnessed  a  greater  tragedy  than  any  which 
she  had  yet  seen. , 


THE  night  was  stormy  and  dark.  The  rain  was  fall- 
ing, and  the  ground  in  Alec's  camp  was  heavy  with  mud. 
The  faithful  Swahilis  whom  he  had  brought  from  the 
coast,  chattered  with  cold  around  their  fires;  and  the 
sentries  shivered  at  their  posts.  It  was  a  night  that 
took  the  spirit  out  of  a  man  and  made  all  that  he 
longed  for  seem  vain  and  trifling.  In  Alec's  tent  the 
water  was  streaming.  Great  rats  ran  about  boldly.  The 
stout  canvas  bellied  before  each  gust  of  wind,  and  the 
cordage  creaked,  so  that  one  might  have  thought  the 
whole  thing  would  be  blown  clean  away.  The  tent  was 
unusually  crowded,  though  there  was  in  it  nothing  but 
Alec's  bed,  covered  with  a  mosquito-curtain,  a  fold- 
ing table,  with  a  couple  of  garden  chairs,  and  the 
cases  which  contained  his  more  precious  belongings. 
A  small  tarpaulin  on  the  floor  squelched  as  one  walked 
on  it. 

On  one  of  the  chairs  a  man  sat,  asleep,  with  his  face 
resting  on  his  arms.  His  gun  was  on  the  table  in  front 
of  him.  It  was  Walker,  a  young  man  who  had  been 
freshly  sent  out  to  take  charge  of  the  North  East 
Africa  Company's  most  northerly  station,  and  had 
joined  Alec's  expedition  a  year  before,  taking  the  place 
of  an  older  man  who  had  gone  home  on  leave.  He  was 
a  funny,  fat  person  with  a  round  face  and  a  comic 
manner,  the  most  unexpected  sort  of  fellow  to  find  in 
the  wildest  of  African  districts;  and  hi  wag  eminently 

141 


142  THE   EXPLORER 

unsuited  for  the  life  he  led.  He  had  come  into  a  little 
money  on  attaining  his  majority,  and  this  he  had  set 
himself  resolutely  to  squander  in  every  unprofitable  way 
that  occurred  to  him.  When  his  last  penny  was  spent 
he  had  been  offered  a  post  by  a  friend  of  his  family's, 
who  happened  to  be  a  director  of  the  company,  and 
had  accepted  it  as  his  only  refuge  from  starvation. 
Adversity  had  not  been  able  to  affect  his  happy  nature. 
He  was  always  cheerful  no  matter  what  difficulties  he 
was  in,  and  neither  regretted  the  follies  of  his  past 
nor  repined  over  the  hardships  which  had  followed 
them.  Alec  had  taken  a  great  liking  to  him.  A  silent 
man  himself,  he  found  a  certain  relaxation  in  people 
like  Dick  Lomas  and  Walker  who  talked  incessantly; 
and  the  young  man's  simplicity,  his  constant  surprise 
at  the  difference  between  Africa  and  Mayfair,  never 
ceased  to  divert  him. 

Presently  Adamson  came  into  the  tent.  He  was  the 
Scotch  doctor  who  had  already  been  Alec's  companion 
on  two  of  his  expeditions ;  and  there  was  a  firm  friend- 
ship between  them.  He  was  an  Edinburgh  man,  with 
a  slow  drawl  and  a  pawky  humour,  a  great  big  fellow, 
far  and  away  the  largest  of  any  of  the  whites;  and 
his  movements  were  no  less  deliberate  than  his  con- 
versation. 

'  Hulloa,  there,'  he  called  out,  as  he  came  in. 

Walker  started  to  his  feet  as  if  he  were  shot  and  in- 
stinctively seized  his  gun. 

f  All  right ! '  laughed  the  doctor,  putting  up  his 
hand.  'Don't  shoot.  It's  only  me.' 

Walker  put  down  the  gun  and  looked  at  the  doctor 
with  a  blank  face. 

'Nerves  are  a  bit  groggy,  aren't  they?' 


THE    EXPLORER  143 

The  fat,  cheerful  man  recovered  his  wits  and  gave 
a  short  laugh. 

'Why  the  dickens  did  you  wake  me  up?  I  was 
dreaming — dreaming  of  a  high-heeled  boot  and  a  neat 
ankle  and  the  swirl  of  a  white  lace  petticoat/ 

( Were  you  indeed  ? '  said  the  doctor,  with  a  slow 
smile.  '  Then  it's  as  well  I  woke  ye  up  in  the  middle 
of  it  before  ye  made  a  fool  of  yourself.  I  thought  I'd 
better  have  a  look  at  your  arm.' 

'  It's  one  of  the  most  aesthetic  sights  I  know/ 

'  Your  arm  ?  '  asked  the  doctor,  drily. 

'  No/  answered  Walker.  '  A  pretty  woman  crossing 
Piccadilly  at  Swan  &  Edgar's.  You  are  a  savage,  my 
good  doctor,  and  a  barbarian;  you  don't  know  the  care 
and  forethought,  the  hours  of  anxious  meditation,  it 
has  needed  to  hold  up  that  well-made  skirt  with  the 
elegant  grace  that  enchants  you.' 

'  I'm  afraid  you're  a  very  immoral  man,  Walker/ 
answered  Adamson  with  his  long  drawl,  smiling. 

(  Under  the  present  circumstances  I  have  to  content 
myself  with  condemning  the  behaviour  of  the  pampered 
and  idle.  Just  now  a  camp-bed  in  a  stuffy  tent,  with 
mosquitoes  buzzing  all  around  me,  has  allurements 
greater  than  those  of  youth  and  beauty.  And  I  would 
not  sacrifice  my  dinner  to  philander  with  Helen  of 
Troy  herself.' 

'  You  remind  me  considerably  of  the  fox  who  said 
the  grapes  were  sour.' 

Walker  flung  a  tin  plate  at  a  rat  that  sat  up  on  its 
hind  legs  and  looked  at  him  impudently. 

'  Nonsense.  Give  me  a  comfortable  bed  to  sleep  in, 
plenty  to  eat,  tobacco  to  smoke;  and  Amaryllis  may 
go  hang.' 


144  THE    EXPLORER 

Dr.  Adamson  smiled  quietly.  He  found  a  certain 
grim  humour  in  the  contrast  between  the  difficulties 
of  their  situation  and  Walker's  flippant  talk. 

'Well,  let  us  look  at  this  wound  of  yours/  he 
said,  getting  back  to  his  business.  '  Has  it  been  throb- 
bing?' 

'  Oh,  if  s  not  worth  bothering  about.  It'll  be  as 
right  as  rain  to-morrow.' 

'  I'd  better  dress  it  all  the  same.' 

Walker  took  off  his  coat  and  rolled  up  his  sleeve. 
The  doctor  removed  the  bandages  and  looked  at  the 
broad  flesh  wound.  He  put  a  fresh  dressing  on  it. 

'  It  looks  as  healthy  as  one  can  expect,'  he  mur- 
mured. '  If  s  odd  what  good  recoveries  men  make 
here  when  you'd  think  that  everything  was  against 
them/ 

'  You  must  be  pretty  well  done  up,  aren't  you  ? ' 
asked  Walker,  as  he  watched  the  doctor  neatly  cut  the 
lint. 

'  Just  about  dropping.  But  I've  a  devil  of  a  lot 
more  work  to  do  before  I  turn  in.' 

'  The  thing  that  amuses  me  is  to  think  that  I  came 
to  Africa  thinking  I  was  going  to  have  a  rattling  good 
time,  plenty  of  shooting  and  practically  nothing  to 
do.' 

'  You  couldn't  exactly  describe  it  as  a  picnic,  could 
you?'  answered  the  doctor.  'But  I  don't  suppose  any 
of  us  knew  it  would  be  such  a  tough  job  as  it's  turned 
out.' 

Walker  put  his  disengaged  hand  on  the  doctor's  arm. 

'  My  friend,  if  ever  I  return  to  my  native  land  I 
will  never  be  such  a  crass  and  blithering  idiot  as  to 
give  way  again  to  a  spirit  of  adventure.  I  shall  look 


THE    EXPLORER  145 

out  for  something  safe  and  quiet,  and  end  my  days  as 
a  wine-merchant's  tout  or  an  insurance  agent/ 

'  Ah,  that's  what  we  all  say  when  we're  out  her*. 
But  when  we're  once  home  again,  the  recollection  of 
the  forest  and  the  plains  and  the  roasting  sun  and  the 
mosquitoes  themselves,  come  haunting  us,  and  before 
we  know  what's  up  we've  booked  our  passage  back  to 
this  God-forsaken  continent/ 

The  doctor's  words  were  followed  by  a  silence,  which 
was  broken  by  Walker  inconsequently. 

'  Do  you  ever  think  of  rumpsteaks  ?  '  he  asked. 

The  doctor  stared  at  him  blankly,  and  Walker  went 
on,  smiling. 

'  Sometimes,  when  we're  marching  under  a  sun  that 
just  about  takes  the  roof  of  your  head  off,  and  we've 
had  the  scantiest  and  most  uncomfortable  breakfast 
possible,  I  have  a  vision/ 

'  I  would  be  able  to  bandage  you  better  if  you  only 
gesticulated  with  one  arm/  said  Adamson. 

'I  see  the  dining-room  of  my  club,  and  myself 
seated  at  a  little  table  by  the  window  looking  out  on 
Piccadilly.  And  there's  a  spotless  tablecloth,  and  all 
the  accessories  are  spick  and  span.  An  obsequious 
menial  brings  me  a  rumpsteak,  grilled  to  perfection, 
and  so  tender  that  it  melts  in  the  mouth.  And  he  puts 
by  my  side  a  plate  of  crisp  fried  potatoes.  Can't  you 
smell  them?  And  then  a  liveried  flunky  brings  me  a 
pewter  tankard,  and  into  it  he  pours  a  bottle,  a  large 
bottle,  mind  you,  of  foaming  ale/ 

*  You've  certainly  added  considerably  to  our  cheer- 
fulness,  my  friend,'  said  Adamson. 

Walker  gaily  shrugged  his  fat  shoulders. 

'  I've  often  been  driven  to  appease  the  pangs  of 

10 


146  THE    EXPLORER 

raging  hunger  with  a  careless  epigram,  and  by  tho 
laborious  composition  of  a  limerick  I  have  sought  to 
deceive  a  most  unholy  thirst/ 

He  liked  that  sentence  and  made  up  his  mind  to 
remember  it  for  future  use.  The  doctor  paused  for  a 
moment,  and  then  he  looked  gravely  at  Walker. 

'  Last  night  I  thought  that  you'd  made  your  last 
joke,  old  man;  and  that  I  had  given  my  last  dose  of 
quinine.' 

*  We  were  in  rather  a  tight  corner,  weren't  we  ? ' 

'  This  is  the  third  expedition  I've  been  with  Mac- 
Kenzie,  and  I  assure  you  I've  never  been  so  certain  that 
all  was  over  with  us.' 

Walker  permitted  himself  a  philosophical  reflection. 

'  Funny  thing  death  is,  you  know !  When  you  think 
of  it  beforehand,  it  makes  you  squirm  in  your  shoes, 
but  when  you've  just  got  it  face  to  face  it  seems  so 
obvious  that  you  forget  to  be  afraid.' 

Indeed  it  was  only  by  a  miracle  that  any  of  them  was 
alive,  and  they  had  all  a  curious,  light-headed  feeling 
from  the  narrowness  of  the  escape.  They  had  been 
fighting,  with  their  backs  to  the  wall,  and  each  one 
had  shown  what  he  was  made  of.  A  few  hours  before 
things  had  been  so  serious  that  now,  in  the  first 
moment  of  relief,  they  sought  refuge  instinctively  in 
banter.  But  Dr.  Adamson  was  a  solid  man,  and  he 
wanted  to  talk  the  matter  out. 

e  If  the  Arabs  hadn't  hesitated  to  attack  us  just 
those  ten  minutes,  we  would  have  been  simply  wiped 
out.' 

'  MacKenzie  was  all  there,  wasn't  he  ?  ' 

Walker  had  the  shyness  of  his  nationality  in  the 
exhibition  of  enthusiasm,  and  he  could  only  express 


THE    EXPLORER  147 

his  admiration  for  the  commander  of  the  party  in  terms 
of  slang. 

'  He  was,  my  son/  answered  Adamson,  drily.  '  My 
own  impression  is,  he  thought  we  were  done  for/ 

'What  makes  you  think  that?' 

'  Well,  you  see,  I  know  him  pretty  well.  When  things 
are  going  smoothly  and  everything's  flourishing,  he's 
apt  to  be  a  bit  irritable.  He  keeps  rather  to  himself, 
and  he  doesn't  say  much  unless  you  do  something  he 
don't  approve  of.' 

'  And  then,  by  Jove,  he  conies  down  on  you  like  a 
thousand  of  bricks,'  Walker  agreed  heartily.  He  re- 
membered observations  which  Alec  on  more  than  one 
occasion  had  made  to  recall  him  to  a  sense  of  his  great 
insignificance.  '  It's  not  for  nothing  the  natives  call 
him  Thunder  and  Lightning.' 

'  But  when  things  look  black,  his  spirits  go  up  like 
one  o'clock,'  proceeded  the  doctor.  f  And  the  worse 
they  are  the  more  cheerful  he  is.' 

'  I  know.  When  you're  starving  with  hunger,  dead 
tired  and  soaked  to  the  skin,  and  wish  you  could  just 
lie  down  and  die,  MacKenzie  simply  bubbles  over  with 
good  humour.  It's  a  hateful  characteristic.  When 
I'm  in  a  bad  temper,  I  much  prefer  everyone  else  to 
be  in  a  bad  temper,  too.' 

*  These  last  three  days  he's  been  positively  hilarious. 
Yesterday  he  was  cracking  jokes  with  the  natives.' 

'  Scotch  jokes,'  said  Walker.  '  I  daresay  they  sound 
funny  in  an  African  dialect.' 

'  I've  never  seen  him  more  cheerful,'  continued  the 
other,  sturdily  ignoring  the  gibe.  '  By  the  Lord  Harry, 
said  I  to  myself,  the  chief  thinks  we're  in  a  devil  of 
a  bad  way.' 


148  THE    EXPLORER 

Walker  stood  up  and  stretched  himself  lazily. 

'Thank  heavens,  it's  all  over  now.  We've  none  of 
us  had  any  sleep  for  three  days,  and  when  I  once  get 
off  I  don't  mean  to  wake  up  for  a  week/ 

'  I  must  go  and  see  the  rest  of  my  patients.  Perkins 
has  got  a  bad  dose  of  fever  this  time.  He  was  quite 
delirious  a  little  while  ago.' 

'By  Jove,  I'd  almost  forgotten.' 

People  changed  in  Africa.  Walker  was  inclined  to 
be  surprised  that  he  was  fairly  happy,  inclined  to  make 
a  little  jest  when  it  occurred  to  him ;  and  it  had  nearly 
slipped  his  memory  that  one  of  the  whites  had  been 
killed  the  day  before,  while  another  was  lying  uncon- 
scious with  a  bullet  in  his  skull.  A  score  of  natives 
were  dead,  and  the  rest  of  them  had  escaped  by  the 
skin  of  their  teeth. 

'  Poor  Kichardson/  he  said. 

'  We  couldn't  spare  him,'  answered  the  doctor  slowly. 
'  The  fates  never  choose  the  right  man.' 

Walker  looked  at  the  brawny  doctor,  and  his  placid 
face  was  clouded.  He  knew  to  what  the  Scot  referred 
and  shrugged  his  shoulders.  But  the  doctor  went  on. 

'  If  we  had  to  lose  someone  it  would  have  been  a 
damned  sight  better  if  that  young  cub  Allerton  had 
got  the  bullet  which  killed  poor  Richardson.' 

'  He  wouldn't  have  been  much  loss,  would  he? '  said 
Walker,  after  a  silence. 

'  MacKenzie  has  been  very  patient  with  him.  If 
I'd  been  in  his  shoes  I'd  have  sent  him  back  to  the 
coast  when  he  sacked  Macinnery.' 

Walker  did  not  answer,  and  the  doctor  proceeded  to 
moralise. 

'  It  seems  to  me  that  some  men  have  natures  se 


THE    EXPLORER  149 

crooked  that  with  every  chance  in  the  world  to  go 
straight,  they  can't  manage  it.  The  only  thing  it  to 
let  them  go  to  the  devil  as  best  they  may.' 

At  that  moment  Alec  MacKenzie  came  in.  He  was 
dripping  with  rain  and  threw  off  his  macintosh.  His 
face  lit  up  when  he  saw  Walker  and  the  doctor.  Ad- 
amson  was  an  old  and  trusted  friend,  and  he  knew 
that  on  him  he  could  rely  always. 

'  I've  been  going  the  round  of  the  outlying  sentries/ 
he  said. 

It  was  unlike  him  to  volunteer  even  so  trivial  a  piece 
of  information,  and  Adamson  looked  up  at  him. 

'All  serene?'  he  asked. 

'  Yes.' 

Alec's  eyes  rested  on  the  doctor  as  though  he  were 
considering  something  strange  about  him.  The  doctor 
knew  him  well  enough  to  suspect  that  something  very 
grave  had  happened,  but  also  he  knew  him  too  well  to 
hazard  an  inquiry.  Presently  Alec  spoke  again. 

*  I've  just  seen  a  native  messenger  that  Mindabi  sent 
me.' 

'  Anything  important  ?  ' 

<  Yes.' 

Alec's  answer  was  so  curt  that  it  was  impossible  to 
question  him  further.  He  turned  to  Walker. 

'  How's  the  arm?' 

'  Oh,  that's  nothing.    It's  only  a  scratch.' 

'  You'd  better  not  make  too  light  of  it.  The  small- 
est wound  has  a  way  of  being  troublesome  in  this 
country.7 

'  He'll  be  all  right  in  a  day  or  two,'  said  the  doctor. 

Alec  sat  down.  For  a  minute  he  did  not  speak,  but 
seemed  plunged  in  thought.  He  passed  his  fingers 


150  THE    EXPLORER 

through  his  beard,  ragged  now  and  longer  than  when 
he  was  in  England. 

'  How  are  the  others  ? '  he  asked  suddenly,  looking 
at  Adamson. 

*  I  don't  think  Thompson  can  last  till  the  morning.' 
'  I've  just  been  in  to  see  him.' 

Thompson  was  the  man  who  had  been  shot  through 
the  head  and  had  lain  unconscious  since  the  day  before. 
He  was  an  old  gold-prospector,  who  had  thrown  in  his 
lot  with  the  expedition  against  the  slavers. 

'  Perkins  of  course  will  be  down  for  several  days 
longer.  And  some  of  the  natives  are  rather  badly  hurt. 
Those  devils  have  got  explosive  bullets.' 

'  Is  there  anyone  in  great  danger  ? ' 

'  No,  I  don't  think  so.  There  are  two  men  who  are 
in  a  bad  way,  but  I  think  they'll  pull  through  with 
rest.' 

'  I  see,'  said  Alec,  laconically. 

He  stared  intently  at  the  table,  absently  passing  his 
hand  across  the  gun  which  Walker  had  left  there. 

*  I  say,  have  you  had  anything  to  eat  lately  ? '  asked 
Walker,  presently. 

Alec  shook  himself  out  of  his  meditation  and  gave 
the  young  man  one  of  his  rare,  bright  smiles.  It  was 
plain  that  he  made  an  effort  to  be  gay. 

'  Good  Lord,  I  quite  forgot ;  I  wonder  when  the 
dickens  I  had  some  food  last.  These  Arabs  have  been 
keeping  us  so  confoundedly  busy.' 

'  I  don't  believe  you've  had  anything  to-day.  You 
must  be  devilish  hungry.' 

'  Now  you  mention  it,  I  think  I  am,'  answered  Alec, 
cheerfully.  'And  thirsty,  by  Jove!  I  wouldn't  give 
my  thirst  for  an  elephant  tusk.' 


THE    EXPLORER  151 

'  And  to  think  there's  nothing  but  tepid  water  to 
drink ! '  Walker  exclaimed  with  a  laugh. 

'  I'll  go  and  tell  the  boy  to  bring  yon.  some  food/  said 
the  doctor.  '  It's  a  rotten  game  to  play  tricks  with 
your  digestion  like  that/ 

'  Stern  man,  the  doctor,  isn't  he  ? '  said  Alec,  with 
twinkling  eyes.  '  It  won't  hurt  me  once  in  a  way,  and 
I  shall  enjoy  it  all  the  more  now/ 

But  when  Adamson  went  to  call  the  boy,  Alec  stopped 
him. 

'Don't  trouble.  The  poor  devil's  half  dead  with 
exhaustion.  I  told  him  he  might  sleep  till  I  called 
him.  I  don't  want  much,  and  I  can  easily  get  it  my- 
self/ 

Alec  looked  about  and  presently  found  a  tin  of  meat 
and  some  ship  biscuits.  During  the  fighting  it  had 
been  impossible  to  go  out  on  the  search  for  game,  and 
there  was  neither  variety  nor  plenty  about  their  larder. 
Alec  placed  the  food  before  him,  sat  down,  and  began 
to  eat.  Walker  looked  at  him. 

'  Appetising,  isn't  it  ?  '  he  said  ironically. 

<  Splendid ! ' 

'  No  wonder  you  get  on  so  well  with  the  natives. 
You  have  all  the  instincts  of  the  primeval  savage.  You 
take  food  for  the  gross  and  bestial  purpose  of  appeasing 
your  hunger,  and  I  don't  believe  you  have  the  least 
appreciation  for  the  delicacies  of  eating  as  a  fine  art/ 

'  The  meat's  getting  rather  mouldy,'  answered  Alec. 

He  ate  notwithstanding  with  a  good  appetite.  His 
thoughts  went  suddenly  to  Dick  who  at  the  hour  which 
corresponded  with  that  which  now  passed  in  Africa, 
was  getting  ready  for  one  of  the  pleasant  little  dinners 
at  the  Carlton  upon  which  he  prided  himself.  And 


152  THE    EXPLORER 

then  he  thought  of  the  noisy  bustle  of  Piccadilly  at 
night,  the  carriages  and  'buses  that  streamed  to  and 
fro,  the  crowded  pavements,  the  gaiety  of  the  lights. 

'  I  don't  know  how  we're  going  to  feed  everyone  to- 
morrow,' said  Walker.  '  Things  will  be  going  pretty 
bad  if  we  can't  get  some  grain  in  from  somewhere.' 

Alec  pushed  back  his  plate. 

'  I  wouldn't  worry  about  to-morrow's  dinner  if  I 
were  you/  he  said,  with  a  low  laugh. 

'Why? 'asked  Walker. 

'  Because  I  think  it's  ten  to  one  that  we  shall  be  as 
dead  as  doornails  before  sunrise.' 

The  two  men  stared  at  him  silently.  Outside,  the 
wind  howled  grimly,  and  the  rain  swept  against  the  side 
of  the  tent. 

t  Is  this  one  of  your  little  jokes,  MacKenzie  ? '  said 
Walker  at  last. 

'  You  have  often  observed  that  I  joke  with  difficulty/ 

'  But  what's  wrong  now  ? '  asked  the  doctor  quickly. 

Alec  looked  at  him  and  chuckled  quietly. 

'You'll  neither  of  you  sleep  in  your  beds  to-night. 
Another  sell  for  the  mosquitoes,  isn't  it?  I  propose  to 
break  up  the  camp  and  start  marching  in  an  hour.' 

'I  say,  it's  a  bit  thick  after  a  day  like  this,'  said 
Walker.  'We're  all  so  done  up  that  we  shan't  be  able 
to  go  a  mile.' 

'  You  will  have  had  two  hours  rest/ 

Adamson  rose  heavily  to  his  feet.  He  meditated  for 
an  appreciable  time. 

'  Some  of  those  fellows  who  are  wounded  can't  pos- 
sibly be  moved/  he  said. 

'  They  must.' 

'  I  won't  answer  for  their  lives.' 


THE    EXPLORER  ,        153 

(  We  must  take  the  risk.  Our  only  chance  is  to  make 
a  bold  dash  for  it,  and  we  can't  leave  the  wounded 
here.' 

*  I  suppose  there's  going  to  be  a  deuce  of  a  row/  said 
Walker. 

'There  is.' 

'  Your  companions  seldom  have  a  chance  to  complain 
of  the  monotony  of  their  existence/  said  Walker, 
grimly.  '  What  are  you  going  to  do  now  ?  ' 

'  At  this  moment  I'm  going  to  fill  my  pipe.' 

With  a  whimsical  smile,  Alec  took  his  pipe  from 
his  pocket,  knocked  it  out  on  his  heel,  filled  and  lit  it. 
The  doctor  and  Walker  digested  the  information  he 
had  given  them.  It  was  Walker  who  spoke  first. 

'  I  gather  from  the  general  amiability  of  your  de- 
meanour that  we're  in  rather  a  tight  place.' 

'  Tighter  than  any  of  your  patent-leather  boots,  my 
friend.' 

Walker  moved  uncomfortably  in  his  chair.  He  no 
longer  felt  sleepy.  A  cold  shiver  ran  down  his  spine. 

'  Have  we  any  chance  of  getting  through  ? '  he  asked 
gravely. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  Alec  paused  an  unconscionable 
time  before  he  answered. 

'  There's  always  a  chance/  he  said. 

'I  suppose  we're  going  to  do  a  bit  more  fighting?' 

'  We  are.' 

Walker  yawned  loudly. 

'  Well,  at  all  events  there's  some  comfort  in  th-  •;.  If 
I  am  going  to  be  done  out  of  my  night's  rest,  J  should 
like  to  take  it  out  of  someone.' 

Alec  looked  at  him  with  approval.  Tlv-.t  was  the 
frame  of  mind  that  pleased  him.  When  he  spoke  again 


154  THE    EXPLORER 

there  was  in  his  voice  a  peculiar  charm  that  perhaps 
in  part  accounted  for  the  power  he  had  over  his  fellows. 
It  inspired  an  extraordinary  belief  in  him,  so  that 
an3'one  would  have  followed  him  cheerfully  to  certain 
death.  And  though  his  words  were  few  and  bald,  he 
was  so  unaccustomed  to  take  others  into  his  confidence, 
that  when  he  did  so,  ever  so  little,  and  in  that  tone,  it 
seemed  that  he  was  putting  his  hearers  under  a  singular 
obligation. 

'  If  things  turn  out  all  right,  we  shall  come  near  fin- 
ishing the  job,  and  there  won't  be  much  more  slave-trad- 
ing in  this  part  of  Africa/ 

'  And  if  things  don't  turn  out  all  right  ?  ' 

'  Why  then,  I'm  afraid  the  tea  tables  of  Mayfair  will 
be  deprived  of  your  scintillating  repartee  for  ever.' 

Walker  looked  down  at  the  ground.  Strange  thoughts 
ran  through  his  head,  and  when  he  looked  up  again, 
with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  there  was  a  queer  look  in 
his  eyes. 

'  Well,  I've  not  had  a  bad  time  in  my  life,'  he  said 
slowly.  '  I've  loved  a  little,  and  I've  worked  and  played. 
I've  heard  some  decent  music,  I've  looked  at  nice  pic- 
tures, and  I've  read  some  thundering  fine  books.  If 
I  can  only  account  for  a  few  more  of  those  damned 
scoundrels  before  I  die,  I  shouldn't  think  I  had  much 
to  complain  of/ 

Alec  smiled,  but  did  not  answer.  A  silence  fell  upon 
them.  Walker's  words  brought  to  Alec  the  recollection 
of  what  had  caused  the  trouble  which  now  threatened 
them,  and  his  lips  tightened.  A  dark  frown  settled  be- 
tween his  eyes. 

'  Well,  I  suppose  I'd  better  go  and  get  things  straight/ 
said  the  doctor.  '  I'll  do  what  I  can  with  those  fel- 


THE    EXPLORER  155 

lows  and  trust  to  Providence  that  they'll  stand  the 
jolting/ 

'  What  about  Perkins?  '  asked  Alec. 

'  Lord  knows !  I'll  try  and  keep  him  quiet  with 
choral/ 

'  You  needn't  say  anything  about  our  striking  camp. 
I  don't  propose  that  anyone  should  know  till  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  before  we  start/ 

'  But  that  won't  give  them  time/ 

'  I've  trained  them  often  enough  to  get  on  the  march 
quickly,'  answered  Alec,  with  a  curtness  that  allowed 
no  rejoinder. 

The  doctor  turned  to  go,  and  at  the  same  moment 
George  Allerton  appeared. 


XI 


GEORGE  ALLERTON  had  changed  since  he  left  England. 
The  flesh  had  fallen  away  from  his  bones,  and  his  face 
was  sallow.  He  had  not  stood  the  climate  well.  His 
expression  had  changed  too,  for  there  was  a  singular 
querulousness  about  his  mouth,  and  his  eyes  were 
shifty  and  cunning.  He  had  lost  his  good  looks. 

'  Can  I  come  in  ?  '  he  said. 

'  Yes/  answered  Alec,  and  then  turning  to  the  doctor : 
'  You  might  stay  a  moment,  will  you  ? ' 

'  Certainly.' 

Adamson  stood  where  he  was,  with  his  back  to  the 
flap  that  closed  the  tent.  Alec  looked  up  quickly. 

'  Didn't  Selim  tell  you  I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  ? ' 

'  That's  why  I've  come,'  answered  George. 

'  You've  taken  your  time  about  it/ 

'  I  say,  could  you  give  me  a  drink  of  brandy  ?  I'm 
awfully  done  up.' 

*  There's  no  brandy  left,'  answered  Alec. 

'  Hasn't  the  doctor  got  some  ?  ' 

'No.' 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Adamson  and  Walker  did 
not  know  what  was  the  matter,  but  they  saw  that  there 
was  something  serious.  They  had  never  seen  Alec  so 
cold,  and  the  doctor,  who  knew  him  well,  saw  that  he 
was  very  angry.  Alec  lifted  his  eyes  again  and  looked 
at  George  slowly. 

'  Do  you  know  anything  about  the  death  of  that 
Turkana  woman  ? '  he  asked  abruptly. 

150 


THE    EXPLORER  157 

George  did  not  answer  immediately. 

'  No.    How  should  I  ?  '  he  said  presently. 

'  Come  now,  you  must  know  something  about  it. 
Last  Tuesday  you  came  into  camp  and  said  th« 
Turkana  were  very  much  excited/ 

'  Oh,  yes,  I  remember/  answered  George,  unwill- 
ingly. 

'Well?' 

*  I'm  not  very  clear  about  it.  The  woman  had  been 
shot,  hadn't  she?  One  of  the  station  boys  had  been 
playing  the  fool  with  her,  and  he  seems  to  have  shot 
her.' 

'  Have  you  made  no  attempt  to  find  out  which  of 
the  station  boys  it  was  ? ' 

'  I  haven't  had  time,'  said  George,  in  a  surly  way. 
'  We've  all  been  worked  off  our  legs  during  the  last 
three  days/ 

'  Do  you  suspect  no  one  ?  ' 

'  I  don't  think  so/ 

'  Think  a  moment/ 

'  The  only  man  who  might  have  done  it  is  that  big 
scoundrel  we  got  on  the  coast,  the  Swahili  beggar  with 
one  ear/ 

'  What  makes  you  think  that?  ' 

'  He's  been  making  an  awful  nuisance  of  himself, 
and  I  know  he's  been  running  after  the  women/ 

Alec  did  not  take  his  eyes  off  George.  Walker  saw 
what  was  coming  and  looked  down  at  the  ground. 

'  You'll  be  surprised  to  hear  that  when  the  woman 
was  found  she  wasn't  dead/ 

George  did  not  move,  but  his  cheeks  became  if  pos- 
sible more  haggard.  He  was  horribly  frightened. 

'  She  didn't  die  for  nearly  an  hour/ 


158  THE    EXPLORER 

There  was  a  very  short  silence.  It  seemed  to  George 
that  they  must  hear  the  furious  beating  of  his  heart. 

'  Was  she  able  to  say  anything  ?  ' 

'  She  said  you'd  shot  her/ 

'What  a  damned  lie!' 

'  It  appears  that  you  were — playing  the  fool  with  her. 
I  don't  know  why  you  quarrelled.  You  took  out  your 
revolver  and  fired  point  blank.' 

George  laughed. 

'  It's  just  like  these  beastly  niggers  to  tell  a  stupid 
lie  like  that.  You  wouldn't  believe  them  rather  than 
me,  would  you  ?  After  all,  my  word's  worth  more  than 
theirs/ 

Alec  quietly  took  from  his  pocket  the  case  of  an  ex- 
ploded cartridge.  It  could  only  have  fitted  a  revolver. 

'This  was  found  about  two  yards  from  the  body 
and  was  brought  to  me  this  evening.' 

'  I  don't  know  what  that  proves.' 

'You  know  just  as  well  as  I  do  that  none  of  the 
natives  has  a  revolver.  Beside  ourselves  only  one  or 
two  of  the  servants  have  them.' 

George  took  his  handkerchief  from  his  pocket  and 
wiped  his  face.  His  throat  was  horribly  dry,  and  he 
could  hardly  breathe. 

'  Will  you  give  me  your  revolver,'  said  Alec,  quietly. 

'  I  haven't  got  it.  I  lost  it  this  afternoon  when  we 
made  that  sortie.  I  didn't  tell  you  as  I  thought  you'd 
get  in  a  wax  about  it.' 

'  I  saw  you  cleaning  it  less  than  an  hour  ago,'  said 
Alec,  gravely. 

George  shrugged  his  shoulders  pettishly. 

'  Perhaps  it's  in  my  tent.    I'll  go  and  see.' 

'  Stop  here/  said  Alec  sharply. 


THE    EXPLORER  159 

'  Look  here,  I'm  not  going  to  be  ordered  about  like 
a  dog.  You've  got  no  right  to  talk  to  me  like  that.  I 
came  out  here  of  my  own  free  will,  and  I  won't  let 
you  treat  me  like  a  damned  nigger.' 

'  If  you  put  your  hand  to  your  hip-pocket  I  think 
you'll  find  your  revolver  there.' 

'  I'm  not  going  to  give  it  you,'  said  George,  his  lips 
white  with  fear. 

' Do  you  want  me  to  come  and  take  it  from  you 
myself?' 

The  two  men  stared  at  one  another  for  a  moment. 
Then  George  slowly  put  his  hand  to  his  pocket  and 
took  out  the  revolver.  But  a  sudden  impulse  seized 
him.  He  raised  it,  quickly  aimed  at  Alec,  and  fired. 
Walker  was  standing  near  him,  and  seeing  the  move- 
ment, instinctively  beat  up  the  boy's  hand  as  pulled 
the  trigger.  In  a  moment  the  doctor  had  sprung 
forward  and  seizing  him  round  the  waist,  thrown  him 
backwards.  The  revolver  fell  from  his  hand.  Alec 
had  not  moved. 

1  Let  me  go,  damn  you ! '  cried  George,  his  voice  shrill 
with  rage. 

'  You  need  not  hold  him,'  said  Alec. 

It  was  second  nature  with  them  all  to  perform  Alec's 
commands,  and  without  thinking  twice  they  dropped 
their  hands.  George  sank  cowering  into  a  chair.  Walker, 
bending  down,  picked  up  the  revolver  and  gave  it  to 
Alec,  who  silently  fitted  into  an  empty  chamber  the 
cartridge  that  had  been  brought  to  him. 

'  You  see  that  it  fits,'  he  said.  '  Hadn't  you  better 
make  a  clean  breast  of  it  ?  ' 

George  was  utterly  cowed.     A  sob  broke  from  him. 

'  Yes,  I  shot  her/  he  said  brokenly.     '  She  made  a 


160  THE   EXPLORER 

row  and  the  devil  got  into  me.  I  didn't  know  what 
I'd  done  till  she  screamed  and  I  saw  the  blood.' 

He  cursed  himself  for  being  such  a  fool  as  to  throw 
the  cartridge  away.  His  first  thought  had  been  to  have 
all  the  chambers  filled. 

'  Do  you  remember  that  two  months  ago  I  hanged  a 
man  to  the  nearest  tree  because  he'd  murdered  one  of 
the  natives  ? ' 

George  sprang  up  in  terror,  and  he  began  to  tremble. 

*  You  wouldn't  do  that  to  me/ 

A  wild  prayer  went  up  in  his  heart  that  mercy  might 
be  shown  him,  and  then  bitter  anger  seized  him  because 
he  had  ever  come  out  to  that  country. 

'  You  need  not  be  afraid/  answered  Alec  coldly.  '  In 
any  case  I  must  preserve  the  native  respect  for  the 
white  man/ 

'  I  was  half  drunk  when  I  saw  the  woman.  I  wasn't 
responsible  for  my  actions/ 

*  In  any  case  the  result  is  that  the  whole  tribe  has 
turned  against  us/ 

The  chief  was  Alec's  friend,  and  it  was  he  who  had 
sent  him  the  exploded  cartridge.  The  news  came  to 
Alec  like  a  thunderclap,  for  the  Turkana  were  the 
best  part  of  his  fighting  force,  and  he  had  al- 
ways placed  the  utmost  reliance  on  their  fidelity. 
The  chief  said  that  he  could  not  hold  in  his  young 
men,  and  not  only  must  Alec  cease  to  count  upon  them, 
but  they  would  probably  insist  on  attacking  him  openly. 
They  had  stirred  up  the  neighbouring  tribes  against 
him  and  entered  into  communication  with  the  Arabs. 
He  had  been  just  at  the  turning  point  and  on  the  verge 
of  a  great  success,  but  now  all  that  had  been  done  dur- 
ing three  years  was  frustrated.  The  Arabs  had  seized 


THE   EXPLORER  161 

the  opportunity  and  suddenly  assumed  the  offensive. 
The  unexpectedness  of  their  attack  had  nearly  proved 
fatal  to  Alec's  party,  and  since  then  they  had  all  had 
to  fight  for  bare  life. 

George  watched  Alec  as  he  stared  at  the  ground. 

'  I  suppose  the  whole  damned  thing's  my  fault/  he 
muttered. 

Alec  did  not  answer  directly. 

'  I  think  we  may  take  it  for  certain  that  the  natives 
will  go  over  to  the  slavers  to-morrow,  and  then  we  shall 
be  attacked  on  all  sides.  We  can't  hold  out  against 
God  knows  how  many  thousands.  I've  sent  Rogers 
and  Deacon  to  bring  in  all  the  Latukas,  but  heaven 
knows  if  they  can  arrive  in  time/ 

'And  if  they  don't?' 

Alec  shrugged  his  shoulders,  but  did  not  speak. 
George's  breathing  came  hurriedly,  and  a  sob  rose  to 
his  throat. 

'  What  are  you  going  to  do  to  me,  Alec  ?  ' 

MacKenzie  walked  up  and  down,  thinking  of  the 
gravity  of  their  position.  In  a  moment  he  stopped  and 
looked  at  Walker. 

'  I  daresay  you  have  some  preparations  to  make/ 
he  said. 

Walker  got  up. 

'  I'll  be  off/  he  answered,  with  a  slight  smile. 

He  was  glad  to  go,  for  it  made  him  ashamed  to  watch 
the  boy's  humiliation.  His  own  nature  was  so  hon- 
est, his  loyalty  so  unbending,  that  the  sight  of  vicious- 
ness  affected  him  with  a  physical  repulsion,  and  he 
turned  away  from  it  as  he  would  have  done  from 
the  sight  of  some  hideous  ulcer.  The  doctor  sur- 
mised that  his  presence  too  was  undesired.  Murmur- 

11 


162  THE   EXPLORER 

ing  that  he  had  no  time  to  lose  if  he  wanted  to  get 
his  patients  ready  for  a  night  march,  he  followed  Walker 
out  of  the  tent.  George  breathed  more  freely  when  he 
was  alone  with  Alec. 

'  I'm  sorry  I  did  that  silly  thing  just  now/  he  said. 
'  I'm  glad  I  didn't  hit  you/ 

'  It  doesn't  matter  at  all/  smiled  Alec.  '  I'd  for- 
gotten all  about  it.' 

'  I  lost  my  head.    I  didn't  know  what  I  was  doing.' 

'  You  need  not  trouble  about  that.  In  Africa  even 
the  strongest  of  us  are  apt  to  lose  our  balance.' 

Alec  filled  his  pipe  again,  and  lighting  it,  blew  heavy 
clouds  of  smoke  into  the  damp  air.  His  voice  was 
softer  when  he  spoke. 

'  Did  you  ever  know  that  before  we  came  away  I 
asked  Lucy  to  marry  me  ? ' 

George  did  not  answer.  He  stifled  a  sob,  for  the  rec- 
ollection of  Lucy,  the  centre  of  his  love  and  the 
mainspring  of  all  that  was  decent  in  him,  transfixed 
his  heart  with  pain. 

'  She  asked  me  to  bring  you  here  in  the  hope 
that  you'd/ — Alec  had  some  difficulty  in  expressing 
himself — '  do  something  that  would  make  people  for- 
get what  happened  to  your  father.  She's  very  proud 
of  her  family.  She  feels  that  your  good  name  is — 
besmirched,  and  she  wanted  you  to  give  it  a  new  lustre. 
I  think  that  is  the  object  she  has  most  at  heart  in 
the  world.  It  is  as  great  as  her  love  for  you.  The 
plan  hasn't  been  much  of  a  success,  has  it  ? ' 

'  She  ought  to  have  known  that  I  wasn't  suited  for 
this  sort  of  life/  answered  George,  bitterly. 

'  I  saw  very  soon  that  you  were  weak  and  irresolute, 
but  I  thought  I  could  put  some  backbone  into  you. 


THE    EXPLORER  163 

I  hoped  for  her  sake  to  make  something  of  you  after 
all.  Your  intentions  seemed  good  enough,  but  yon 
never  had  the  strength  to  carry  them  out.'  Alec  had  been 
watching  the  smoke  that  rose  from  his  pipe,  but  now 
he  looked  at  George.  <  I'm  sorry  if  I  seem  to  be  preach- 
ing at  you/ 

'  Oh,  do  you  think  I  care  what  anyone  says  to  me 
now?' 

Alec  went  on  very  gravely,  but  not  unkindly. 

'  Then  I  found  you  were  drinking.  I  told  you  that 
no  man  could  stand  liquor  in  this  country,  and  you 
gave  me  your  word  of  honour  that  you  wouldn't  touch 
it  again.' 

'  Yes,  I  broke  it.  I  couldn't  help  myself.  The  temp- 
tation  was  too  strong.' 

*  When  we  came  to  the  station  at  Munias,  and  I  was 
laid  up  with  fever,  you  and  Macinnery  took  the  op- 
portunity to  get  into  an  ugly  scrape  with  some  native 
women.  You  knew  that  that  was  the  one  thing  I  would 
not  stand.  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  morality — every- 
one is  free  in  these  things  to  do  as  he  chooses — but 
I  do  know  that  nothing  causes  more  trouble  with  the 
natives,  and  I've  made  definite  rules  on  the  subject.  If 
the  culprits  are  Swahilis  I  flog  them,  and  if  they're 
whites  I  send  them  back  to  the  coast.  That's  what  I 
ought  to  have  done  with  you,  but  it  would  have  broken 
Lucy's  heart/ 

'  It  was  Macinnery's  fault.' 

'It's  because  I  thought  Machinery  was  chiefly  to 
blame  that  I  sent  him  back  alone.  I  determined  to  give 
you  another  chance.  It  struck  me  that  the  feeling  of 
authority  might  have  some  influence  on  you,  and  so, 
when  I  had  to  build  a  boma  to  guard  the  road  down 


164  THE    EXPLORER 

to  the  coast,  I  put  the  chief  part  of  the  stores  in  your 
care  and  left  you  in  command.  I  need  not  remind 
you  what  happened  there/ 

George  looked  down  at  the  floor  sulkily,  and  in  de- 
fault of  excuses,  kept  silent.  He  felt  a  sullen  resent- 
ment as  he  remembered  Alec's  anger.  He  had  never 
seen  him  give  way  before  or  since  to  such  a  furious 
wrath,  and  he  had  seen  Alec  hold  himself  with  all  his 
strength  so  that  he  might  not  thrash  him.  Alec  re- 
membered too,  and  his  voice  once  more  grew  hard  and 
cold. 

*  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  hopeless.    You 
seemed  to  me  rotten  through  and  through.' 

'  Like  my  father  before  me/  sneered  George,  with  a 
little  laugh. 

'  I  couldn't  believe  a  word  you  said.  You  were  idle 
and  selfish.  Above  all  you  were  loathsomely,  wantonly 
cruel.  I  was  aghast  when  I  heard  of  the  fiendish  cruelty 
with  which  you'd  used  the  wretched  men  whom  I  left 
with  you.  If  I  hadn't  returned  in  the  nick  of  time, 
they'd  have  killed  you  and  looted  all  the  stores/ 

'  It  would  have  upset  you  to  lose  the  stores,  wouldn't 
it?' 

-'  Is  that  all  you've  got  to  say  ? ' 

'  You  always  believed  their  stories  rather  than  mine/ 

'  It  was  difficult  not  to  believe  when  a  man  showed 
me  his  back  all  torn  and  bleeding,  and  said  you'd  had 
him  flogged  because  he  didn't  cook  your  food  to  your 
satisfaction/ 

'  I  did  it  in  a  moment  of  temper.  A  man's  not  re- 
sponsible for  what  he  does  when  he's  got  fever/ 

*  It  was  too  late  to  send  you  to  the  coast  then,  and 
I  was  obliged  to  take  you  on.     And  now  the  end  has 


THE    EXPLORER  165 

come.  Your  murder  of  that  woman  has  put  us  all  in 
deadly  peril.  Already  to  your  charge  lie  the  deaths  of 
Richardson  and  Thompson  and  about  twenty  natives. 
We're  as  near  destruction  as  we  can  possibly  be;  and 
if  we're  killed,  to-morrow  the  one  tribe  that  has  re- 
mained friendly  will  be  attacked  and  their  villages 
burnt.  Men,  women  and  children,  will  be  put  to  the 
sword  or  sold  into  slavery.' 

George  seemed  at  last  to  see  the  abyss  into  which 
he  was  plunged,  and  his  resentment  gave  way  to  de- 
spair. 

t  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  ' 

'  We're  far  away  from  the  coast,  and  I  must  take  the 
law  into  my  own  hands.' 

'  You're  not  going  to  kill  me  ? '  gasped  George. 

'  No,'  said  Alec  scornfully. 

Alec  sat  on  the  little  camp  table  so  that  he  might 
be  quite  near  George. 

'  Are  you  fond  of  Lucy  ? '  he  asked  gently. 

George  broke  into  a  sob. 

'  0  God,  you  know  I  am,'  he  cried  piteously.  '  Why 
do  you  remind  me  of  her?  I've  made  a  rotten  mess 
of  everything,  and  I'm  better  out  of  the  way.  But 
think  of  the  disgrace  of  it.  It'll  kill  Lucy.  And  she 
was  hoping  I'd  do  so  much.' 

He  hid  his  face  in  his  hands  and  sobbed  broken- 
heartedly.  Alec,  strangely  touched,  put  his  hand  on 
his  shoulder. 

'  Listen  to  me,'  he  said.  '  I've  sent  Deacon  and 
Rogers  to  bring  up  as  many  Latukas  as  they  can.  If 
we  can  tide  over  to-morrow  we  may  be  able  to  inflict 
a  crushing  blow  on  the  Arabs;  but  we  must  seize  the 
ford  over  the  river.  The  Arabs  are  holding  it  and  our 


166  THE    EXPLORER 

only  chance  is  to  make  a  sudden  attack  on  them  to- 
night before  the  natives  join  them.  We  shall  be 
enormously  outnumbered,  but  we  may  do  some  damage 
if  we  take  them  by  surprise,  and  if  we  can  capture  the 
ford,  Rogers  and  Deacon  will  be  able  to  get  across  to 
us.  We've  lost  Richardson  and  Thompson.  Perkins  is 
down  with  fever.  That  reduces  the  whites  to  Walker, 
and  the  doctor,  Condamine,  Mason,  you  and  myself. 
I  can  trust  the  Swahilis,  but  they're  the  only  natives 
I  can  trust.  Now,  I'm  going  to  start  marching  straight 
for  the  ford.  The  Arabs  will  come  out  of  their  stockade 
in  order  to  cut  us  off.  In  the  darkness  I  mean  to  slip 
away  with  the  rest  of  the  white  men  and  the  Swahilis, 
I've  found  a  short  cut  by  which  I  can  take  them  in 
the  rear.  They'll  attack  just  as  the  ford  is  reached, 
and  I  shall  fall  upon  them.  Do  you  see  ? ' 

George  nodded,  but  he  did  not  understand  at  what 
Alec  was  driving.  The  words  reached  his  ears  vaguely, 
as  though  they  came  from  a  long  way  off. 

*  I  want  one  white  man  to  lead  the  Turkana,  and 
that  man  will  run  the  greatest  possible  danger.  I'd 
go  myself  only  the  Swahilis  won't  fight  unless  I  lead 
them.  .  .  .  Will  you  take  that  post  ?  ' 

The  blood  rushed  to  George's  head,  and  he  felt  his 
ears  singing. 

'I?' 

'  I  could  order  you  to  go,  but  the  job's  too  dangerous 
for  me  to  force  it  on  anyone.  If  you  refuse  I  shall 
call  the  others  together  and  ask  someone  to  volunteer.' 

George  did  not  answer. 

'  I  won't  hide  from  you  that  it  means  almost  certain 
death.  But  there's  no  other  way  of  saving  ourselves. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  you  show  perfect  courage  at  tha 


THE    EXPLORER  167 

moment  the  Arabs  attack  and  the  Turkana  find  we've 
given  them  the  slip,  you  may  escape.  If  you  do,  1  prom- 
ise you  that  nothing  shall  be  said  of  all  that  has  hap- 
pened here/ 

George  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  once  more  on  his  lips 
flashed  the  old,  frank  smile. 

'  All  right !  I'll  do  that.  And  I  thank  you  with  all 
my  heart  for  giving  me  the  chance/ 

Alec  held  out  his  hand,  and  he  gave  a  sigh  of  relief. 

4  I'm  glad  you've  accepted.  Whatever  happens  you'll 
have  done  one  brave  action  in  your  life.' 

George  flushed.     He  wanted  to  speak,  but  hesitated. 

*  I  should  like  to  ask  you  a  great  favour/  he  said 
at  last. 

Alec  waited  for  him  to  go  on. 

'  You  won't  let  Lucy  know  the  mess  I've  made  of 
things,  will  you  ?  Let  her  think  I've  done  all  she  wanted 
me  to  do.' 

'  Very  well/  answered  Alec  gently. 

'  Will  you  give  me  your  word  of  honour  that  if  I'm 
killed  you  won't  say  anything  that  will  lead  anyone 
to  suspect  how  I  came  by  my  death/ 

Alec  looked  at  him  silently.  It  flashed  across  his 
mind  that  it  might  be  necessary  under  certain  circum- 
stances to  tell  the  whole  truth.  George  was  greatly 
moved.  He  seemed  to  divine  the  reason  of  Alec's 
hesitation. 

'  I  have  no  right  to  ask  anything  of  you.  Already 
you've  done  far  more  for  me  than  I  deserved.  But  it'g 
for  Lucy's  sake  that  I  implore  you  not  to  give  m« 
away.' 

Alec,  standing  entirely  still,  uttered  the  words  slowly. 

1 1  give  you  my  word  of  honour  that  whatever  hap- 


168  THE    EXPLORER 

pens  and  in  whatever  circumstances  I  find  myself 
placed,  not  a  word  shall  escape  me  that  could  lead 
Lucy  to  suppose  that  you  hadn't  been  always  and  in 
every  way  upright,  brave,  and  honourable.  I  will  take 
all  the  responsibility  of  your  present  action.' 

'  I'm  awfully  grateful  to  you.' 

Alec  moved  at  last.  The  strain  of  their  conversa- 
tion was  become  almost  intolerable.  Alec's  voice  be- 
came cheerful  and  brisk. 

'  I  think  there's  nothing  more  to  be  said.  You 
finust  be  ready  to  start  in  half  an  hour.  Here's  your 
revolver/  There  was  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes  as  he  con- 
tinued :  '  Remember  that  you've  discharged  one  cham- 
ber. You'd  better  put  in  another  cartridge.' 

<  Yes,  I'll  do  that.' 

George  nodded  and  went  out.  Alec's  face  at  once 
lost  the  lightness  which  it  had  assumed  a  moment  be- 
fore. He  knew  that  he  had  just  done  something  which 
might  separate  him  from  Lucy  for  ever.  His  love  for 
her  was  now  the  only  thing  in  the  world  to  him,  and 
he  had  jeopardised  it  for  that  worthless  boy.  He  saw 
that  all  sorts  of  interpretations  might  be  put  upon  his 
action,  and  he  should  have  been  free  to  speak  the 
truth.  But  even  if  George  had  not  exacted  from  him 
the  promise  of  silence,  he  could  never  have  spoken  a 
word.  He  loved  Lucy  far  too  deeply  to  cause  her 
such  bitter  pain.  Whatever  happened,  she  must  think 
that  George  was  a  brave  man,  and  had  died  in  the 
performance  of  his  duty.  He  knew  her  well  enough  to 
be  sure  that  if  death  were  dreadful,  it  was  more  tolerable 
than  dishonour.  He  knew  how  keenly  she  had  felt 
her  disgrace,  how  it  affected  her  like  a  personal  un- 
cleanness,  and  he  knew  that  she  had  placed  all 


THE    EXPLORER  169 

her  hopes  in  George.  Her  brother  was  rotten  to  the 
core,  as  rotten  as  her  father.  How  could  he  tell  her 
that?  He  was  willing  to  make  any  sacrifice  rather 
than  allow  her  to  have  such  knowledge.  But  if  ever 
she  knew  that  he  had  sent  George  to  his  death 
she  would  hate  him.  And  if  he  lost  her  love  he  lost 
everything.  He  had  thought  of  that  before  he  an- 
swered :  Lucy  could  do  without  love  better  than  without 
self-respect. 

But  he  had  told  George  that  if  he  had  pluck  he  might 
get  through.  Would  he  show  that  last  virtue  of  a 
blackguard — courage  ? 


XII 


IT  was  not  till  six  months  later  that  news  of  Alec  Mac- 
Kenzie's  expedition  reached  the  outer  world,  and  at 
the  same  time  Lucy  received  a  letter  from  him  in 
which  he  told  her  that  her  brother  was  dead.  That 
stormy  night  had  been  fatal  to  the  light-hearted  Walker 
and  to  George  Allerton,  but  success  had  rewarded 
Alec's  desperate  boldness,  and  a  blow  had  been  inflicted 
on  the  slavers  which  subsequent  events  proved  to  be 
crushing.  Alec's  letter  was  grave  and  tender.  He 
knew  the  extreme  grief  he  must  inflict  upon  Lucy, 
and  he  knew  that  words  could  not  assuage  it.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  the  only  consolation  he  could  offer  was  that 
the  life  which  was  so  precious  to  her  had  been  given 
for  a  worthy  cause.  Now  that  George  had  made  up 
in  the  only  way  possible  for  the  misfortune  his  crim- 
inal folly  had  brought  upon  them,  Alec  was  determined 
to  put  out  of  his  mind  all  that  had  gone  before.  It 
was  right  that  the  weakness  which  had  ruined  him 
should  be  forgotten,  and  Alec  could  dwell  honestly  on 
the  boy's  charm  of  manner,  and  on  his  passionate  love 
for  his  sister. 

The  months  followed  one  another,  the  dry  season 
gave  place  to  the  wet,  and  at  length  Alec  was  able  to 
say  that  the  result  he  had  striven  for  was  achieved. 
Success  rewarded  his  long  efforts,  and  it  was  worth  th« 
time,  the  money,  and  the  lives  that  it  had  cost.  The 
slavers  were  driven  out  of  a  territory  larger  than 
the  United  Kingdom,  treaties  were  signed  with  chiefs 
170 


ALEC 


THE    EXPLORER  171 

who  had  hitherto  been  independent,  by  which  they 
accepted  the  suzerainty  of  Great  Britain;  and  only 
one  step  remained,  that  the  government  should  take 
over  the  rights  of  the  company  which  had  been  given 
powers  to  open  up  the  country,  and  annex  the  conquered 
district  to  the  empire.  It  was  to  this  that  MacKenzie 
now  set  himself;  and  he  entered  into  communication 
with  the  directors  of  the  company  and  with  the  com- 
missioner at  Nairobi. 

But  it  seemed  as  if  the  fates  would  snatch  from  him 
all  enjoyment  of  the  laurels  he  had  won,  for  on  their 
way  towards  Nairobi,  Alec  and  Dr.  Adamson  were 
attacked  by  blackwater  fever.  For  weeks  Alec  lay  at 
the  point  of  death.  His  fine  constitution  seemed  to 
break  at  last,  and  he  himself  thought  that  the  end 
was  come.  Condamine,  one  of  the  company's  agents, 
took  command  of  the  party  and  received  Alec's  final 
instructions.  Alec  lay  in  his  camp  bed,  with  his 
faithful  Swahili  boy  by  his  side  to  brush  away  the 
flies,  waiting  for  the  end.  He  would  have  given 
much  to  live  till  all  his  designs  were  accomplished, 
but  that  apparently  was  not  to  be.  There  was  only 
one  thing  that  troubled  him.  Would  the  government 
let  the  splendid  gift  he  offered  slip  through  their 
fingers?  Now  was  the  time  to  take  formal  possession 
of  the  territories  which  he  had  pacified:  the  prestige 
of  the  whites  was  at  its  height,  and  there  were  no  diffi- 
culties to  be  surmounted.  He  impressed  upon  Con- 
damine, whom  he  wished  to  be  appointed  sub-commis- 
sioner under  a  chief  at  Nairobi,  the  importance  of 
making  all  this  clear  to  the  authorities.  The  post  he 
suggested  would  have  been  pressed  upon  himself,  but 
he  had  no  taste  for  official  restrictions,  and  his  part 


TO  THE    EXPLORER 

of  the  work  was  done.  So  far  as  this  went,  his  death 
was  of  little  consequence. 

And  then  he  thought  of  Lucy.  He  wondered  if  she 
would  understand  what  he  had  done.  He  could  ac- 
knowledge now  that  she  had  cause  to  be  proud  of  him. 
She  would  be  sorry  for  his  death.  He  did  not  think 
that  she  loved  him,  he  did  not  expect  it;  but  he  was 
glad  to  have  loved  her,  and  he  wished  he  could  have 
told  her  how  much  the  thought  of  her  had  been  to 
him  during  these  years  of  difficulty.  It  was  very 
hard  that  he  might  not  see  her  once  more  in  or- 
der to  thank  her  for  all  ehe  had  been  to  him.  She 
had  given  his  life  a  beauty  it  could  never  have  had, 
and  for  this  he  was  very  grateful.  But  the  secret  of 
George's  death  would  die  with  him;  for  Walker  was 
dead,  and  Adamson,  the  only  man  left  who  could  throw 
light  upon  it,  might  be  relied  on  to  hold  his  tongue. 
And  Alec,  losing  strength  each  day,  thought  that  per- 
haps it  were  well  if  he  died. 

But  Condamine  could  not  bear  to  see  his  chief  thus 
perish.  For  four  years  that  man  had  led  them,  and 
only  his  companions  knew  his  worth.  To  his  acquaint- 
ance he  might  seem  hard  and  unsympathetic,  he  might 
repel  by  his  taciturnity  and  anger  by  his  sternness; 
but  his  comrades  knew  how  eminent  were  his  quali- 
ties. It  was  impossible  for  anyone  to  live  with  him 
continually  without  being  conquered  by  his  greatness. 
If  his  power  with  the  natives  was  unparalleled,  it  was 
because  they  had  taken  his  measure  and  found  him 
sterling.  And  he  had  bound  the  whites  to  him  by 
ties  from  which  they  could  not  escape.  He  asked  no 
one  to  do  anything  which  he  was  not  willing  to  do  him- 
self. If  any  plan  of  his  failed  he  took  the  failure 


THE    EXPLORER  173 

upon  himself;  if  it  succeeded  he  attributed  the  suc- 
cess to  those  who  had  carried  out  his  orders.  If  he 
demanded  courage  and  endurance  from  others  it  was 
easy,  since  he  showed  them  the  way  by  his  own  example 
to  be  strong  and  brave.  His  honesty,  justice,  and 
forbearance  made  all  who  came  in  contact  with  him 
ashamed  of  their  own  weakness.  They  knew  the  un- 
selfishness which  considered  the  comfort  of  the  meanest 
porter  before  his  own ;  and  his  tenderness  to  those  who 
were  ill  knew  no  bounds. 

The  Swahilis  assumed  an  unaccustomed  silence,  and 
the  busy,  noisy  camp  was  like  a  death  chamber.  When 
Alec's  boy  told, them  that  his  master  grew  each  day 
weaker,  they  went  about  with  tears  running  down  their 
cheeks,  and  they  would  have  wailed  aloud,  but  that 
they  knew  he  must  not  be  disturbed.  It  seemed  to 
Condamine  that  there  was  but  one  chance,  and  that 
was  to  hurry  down,  with  forced  marches,  to  the  nearest 
station.  There  they  would  find  a  medical  missionary 
to  look  after  him  and  the  comforts  of  civilisation  which 
in  the  forest  they  so  wofully  lacked. 

Alec  was  delirious  when  they  moved  him.  It  was 
fortunate  that  he  could  not  be  told  of  Adamson's  death, 
which  had  taken  place  three  days  before.  The  good, 
strong  Scotchman  had  succumbed  at  last  to  the  African 
climate;  and  on  this,  his  third  journey,  having  sur- 
mounted all  the  perils  that  had  surrounded  him  for  so 
long,  almost  on  the  threshold  of  home,  he  had  sunk 
and  died.  He  was  buried  at  the  foot  of  a  great  tree, 
far  down  so  that  the  jackals  might  not  find  him,  and 
Condamine  with  a  shaking  voice  read  over  him  the 
burial  service  from  an  English  prayerbook. 

It  seemed  a  miracle  that  Alec  survived  the  exhaus- 


174,  THE   EXPLORER 

tion  of  the  long  tramp.  He  was  jolted  along  elephant 
paths  that  led  through  dense  bush,  up  stony  hills  and 
down  again  to  the  beds  of  dried-up  rivers.  Each  time 
Condamine  looked  at  the  pale,  wan  man  who  lay  in  the 
litter,  it  was  with  a  horrible  fear  that  he  would  be 
dead.  They  began  marching  before  sunrise,  swiftly, 
to  cover  as  much  distance  as  was  possible  before  the 
sun  grew  hot;  they  marched  again  towards  sun- 
set when  a  grateful  coolness  refreshed  the  weary  pa- 
tient. They  passed  through  interminable  forests,  where 
the  majestic  trees  sheltered  under  their  foliage  a  wealth 
of  graceful,  tender  plants:  from  trunk  and  branch 
swung  all  manner  of  creepers,  which  bound  the  forest 
giants  in  fantastic  bonds.  They  forded  broad  streams, 
with  exquisite  care  lest  the  sick  man  should  come  to 
hurt;  they  tramped  through  desolate  marshes  where 
the  ground  sunk  under  their  feet.  And  at  last  they 
reached  the  station.  Alec  was  still  alive. 

For  weeks  the  tender  skill  of  the  medical  missionary 
and  the  loving  kindness  of  his  wife  wrestled  with  death, 
and  at  length  Alec  was  out  of  danger.  His  convales- 
cence was  very  slow,  and  it  looked  often  as  though  he 
would  never  entirely  get  back  his  health.  But  as  soon 
as  his  mind  regained  its  old  activity,  he  resumed  direc- 
tion of  the  affairs  which  were  so  near  his  heart;  and 
no  sooner  was  his  strength  equal  to  it  than  he  insisted 
on  being  moved  to  Nairobi,  where  he  was  in  touch  with 
civilisation,  and,  through  the  commissioner,  could  in- 
fluence a  supine  government  to  accept  the  precious  gift 
he  offered.  All  this  took  many  months,  months  of 
anxious  waiting,  months  of  bitter  disappointment;  but 
at  length  everything  was  done :  the  worthy  Condamine 
was  given  the  appointment  that  Alec  had  desired  and 


THE    EXPLORER  175 

set  out  once  more  for  the  interior;  Great  Britain  took 
possession  of  the  broad  lands  which  Alec,  by  his  skill, 
tact,  perseverance  and  strength,  had  wrested  from  bar- 
barism. His  work  was  finished,  and  he  could  return 
to  England. 

Public  attention  had  been  called  at  last  to  the  great- 
ness of  his  achievement,  to  the  dangers  he  had  run  and 
the  difficulties  he  had  encountered;  and  before  he 
sailed,  he  learned  that  the  papers  were  ringing  with 
his  praise.  A  batch  of  cablegrams  reached  him,  in- 
cluding one  from  Dick  Lomas  and  one  from  Eobert 
Boulger,  congratulating  him  on  his  success.  Two  for- 
eign potentates,  through  their  consuls  at  Mombassa, 
bestowed  decorations  upon  him;  scientific  bodies  of  all 
countries  conferred  on  him  the  distinctions  which  were 
in  their  power  to  give;  chambers  of  commerce  passed 
resolutions  expressing  their  appreciation  of  his  services ; 
publishers  telegraphed  offers  for  the  book  which  they 
surmised  he  would  write;  newspaper  correspondents 
came  to  him  for  a  preliminary  account  of  his  travels. 
Alec  smiled  grimly  when  he  read  that  an  Under-Secre- 
tary  for  Foreign  Affairs  had  referred  to  him  in  a 
debate  with  honeyed  words.  No  such  enthusiasm  had 
been  aroused  in  England  since  Stanley  returned  from 
the  journey  which  he  afterwards  described  in  Dark- 
est Africa.  When  he  left  Mombassa  the  residents  gave 
a  dinner  in  his  honour,  and  everyone  who  had  the 
chance  jumped  up  on  his  legs  and  made  a  speech.  In 
short,  after  many  years  during  which  Alec's  endeav- 
ours had  been  coldly  regarded,  when  the  government 
had  been  inclined  to  look  upon  him  as  a  busybody,  the 
tide  turned;  and  he  was  in  process  of  being  made  a 
national  hero. 


176  THE   EXPLORER 

Alec  made  up  his  mind  to  come  home  the  whole  way 
by  sea,  thinking  that  the  rest  of  the  voyage  would  give 
his  constitution  a  chance  to  get  the  better  of  the  ills 
which  still  troubled  him;  and  at  Gibraltar  he  received 
a  letter  from  Dick.  One  had  reached  him  at  Suez; 
but  that  was  mainly  occupied  with  congratulations,  and 
there  was  a  tenderness  due  to  the  fear  that  Alec  had 
hardly  yet  recovered  from  his  dangerous  illness,  which 
made  it,  though  touching  to  Alec,  not  so  characteristic 
as  the  second. 

My  Dear  Alec: 

I  am  delighted  that  you  will  return  in  the 
nick  of  time  for  the  London  season.  You  will  put 
the  noses  of  the  Christian  Scientists  out  of  joint, 
and  the  New  Theologians  will  argue  no  more  in 
the  columns  of  the  halfpenny  papers.  For  you  are 
going  to  be  the  lion  of  the  season.  Comb  your  mane 
and  have  it  neatly  curled  and  scented,  for  we  do  not 
like  our  lions  unkempt;  and  learn  how  to  flap  your 
tail;  be  sure  you  cultivate  a  proper  roar  because  we 
expect  to  shiver  delightfully  in  our  shoes  at  the  sight 
of  you,  and  young  ladies  are  already  practising  how 
to  swoon  with  awe  in  your  presence.  We  have  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  you  are  a  hero,  and  I,  your  humble 
servant,  shine  already  with  reflected  glory  because  for 
twenty  years  I  have  had  the  privilege  of  your  acquaint- 
ance. Duchesses,  my  dear  boy,  duchesses  with  straw- 
berry leaves  around  their  snowy  brows,  (like  the  French 
grocer  I  make  a  point  of  never  believing  a  duchess  is 
more  than  thirty,)  ask  me  to  tea  so  that  they  may  hear 
me  prattle  of  your  childhood's  happy  days,  and  I 
have  promised  to  bring  you  to  lunch  with  them, 


THE    EXPLORER  177 

Tompkinson,  whom  you  once  kicked  at  Eton,  lias 
written  an  article  in  Blackwood  on  the  beauty  of 
your  character;  by  which  I  take  it  that  the  hard- 
ness of  your  boot  has  been  a  lasting  memory  to  him. 
AH  your  friends  are  proud  of  you,  and  we  go 
about  giving  the  uninitiated  to  understand  that  noth- 
ing of  all  this  would  have  happened  except  for  our  en- 
couragement. You  will  be  surprised  to  learn  how  many 
people  are  anxious  to  reward  you  for  your  services  to 
the  empire  by  asking  you  to  dinner.  So  far  as  I  am 
concerned,  I  am  smiling  in  my  sleeve;  for  I  alone 
know  what  an  exceedingly  disagreeable  person  you  are. 
You  are  not  a  hero  in  the  least,  but  a  pig-headed  beast 
who  conquers  kingdoms  to  annoy  quiet,  self-respecting 
persons  like  myself  who  make  a  point  of  minding  their 
own  business.  Yours  ever  affectionately, 

Richard  Lomas. 

Alec  smiled  when  he  read  the  letter.  It  had  struck 
him  that  there  would  be  some  attempt  on  his  return 
to  make  a  figure  of  him,  and  he  much  feared  that  his 
arrival  in  Southampton  would  be  followed  by  an 
attack  of  interviewers.  He  was  coming  in  a  slow 
German  ship,  and  at  that  moment  a  P.  and  0.,  home- 
ward bound,  put  in  at  Gibraltar.  By  taking  it  he  could 
reach  England  one  day  earlier  and  give  everyone  who 
came  to  meet  him  the  slip.  Leaving  his  heavy  luggage, 
he  got  a  steward  to  pack  up  the  things  he  used  on  the 
journey,  and  in  a  couple  of  hours,  after  an  excursion 
on  shore  to  the  offices  of  the  company,  found  himself 
installed  on  the  English  boat. 

But  when  the  great  ship  entered  the  English  Chan- 

12 


178  THE   EXPLORER 

nel,  Alec  could  scarcely  bear  his  impatience.  It  would 
have  astonished  those  who  thought  him  unhuman  if 
they  had  known  the  tumultuous  emotions  that  rent 
his  soul.  His  fellow-passengers  never  suspected  that 
the  bronzed,  silent  man  who  sought  to  make  no 
acquaintance,  was  the  explorer  with  whose  name  all 
Europe  was  ringing;  and  it  never  occurred  to  them 
that  as  he  stood  in  the  bow  of  the  ship,  straining  his 
eyes  for  the  first  sight  of  England,  his  heart  was  so 
full  that  he  would  not  have  dared  to  speak.  Each  ab- 
sence had  intensified  his  love  for  that  sea-girt  land, 
and  his  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  longing  as  he  thought 
that  soon  now  he  would  see  it  once  more.  He  loved 
the  murky  waters  of  the  English  Channel  because  they 
bathed  its  shores,  and  he  loved  the  strong  west  wind. 
The  west  wind  seemed  to  him  the  English  wind; 
it  was  the  trusty  wind  of  seafaring  men,  and  he 
lifted  his  face  to  taste  its  salt  buoyancy.  He  could 
not  think  of  the  white  cliffs  of  England  without  a 
deep  emotion;  and  when  they  passed  the  English  ships, 
tramps  outward  bound  or  stout  brigantines  driving  be- 
fore the  wind  with  their  spreading  sails,  he  saw  the 
three-deckers  of  Trafalgar  and  the  proud  galleons  of 
the  Elizabethans.  He  felt  a  personal  pride  in  those 
dead  adventurers  who  were  spiritual  ancestors  of  his, 
and  he  was  proud  to  be  an  Englishman  because  Fro- 
bisher  and  Effingham  were  English,  and  Drake  and 
Raleigh  and  the  glorious  Nelson. 

And  then  his  pride  in  the  great  empire  which  had 
sprung  from  that  small  island,  a  greater  Rome  in  a 
greater  world,  dissolved  into  love  as  his  wandering 
thoughts  took  him  to  green  meadows  and  rippling 
streams.  Now  at  last  he  need  no  longer  keep  so  tight 


THE    EXPLORER  179 

a  rein  upon  his  fancy,  but  could  allow  it  to  wander 
at  will;  and  he  thought  of  the  green  hedgerows  and 
the  pompous  elm  trees;  he  thought  of  the  lovely  way- 
side cottages  with  their  simple  flowers  and  of  the 
winding  roads  that  were  so  good  to  walk  on.  He  was 
breathing  the  English  air  now,  and  his  spirit  was  up- 
lifted. He  loved  the  grey  soft  mists  of  low-lying 
country,  and  he  loved  the  smell  of  the  heather  as  he 
stalked  across  the  moorland.  There  was  no  river  he 
knew  that  equalled  the  kindly  Thames,  with  the  fair 
trees  of  its  banks  and  its  quiet  backwaters,  where  white 
swans  gently  moved  amid  the  waterlilies.  His  thoughts 
went  to  Oxford,  with  its  spires,  bathed  in  a  violet 
haze,  and  in  imagination  he  sat  in  the  old  garden  of 
his  college,  so  carefully  tended,  so  great  with  memories 
of  the  past.  And  he  thought  of  London.  There  was 
a  subtle  beauty  in  its  hurrying  crowds,  and  there  was 
beauty  in  the  thronged  traffic  of  its  river:  the  streets 
had  that  indefinable  hue  which  is  the  colour  of  Lon- 
don, and  the  sky  had  the  gold  and  the  purple  of  an 
Italian  brocade.  Now  in  Piccadilly  Circus,  around  the 
fountain  sat  the  women  who  sold  flowers;  and  the 
gaiety  of  their  baskets,  rich  with  roses  and  daffodils 
and  tulips,  yellow  and  red,  mingled  with  the  sombre 
tones  of  the  houses,  the  dingy  gaudiness  of  'buses  and 
the  sunny  greyness  of  the  sky. 

At  last  his  thoughts  went  back  to  the  outward  voy- 
age. George  Allerton  was  with  him  then,  and  now  he 
was  alone.  He  had  received  no  letter  from  Lucy  since 
he  wrote  to  tell  her  that  George  was  dead.  He  under- 
stood her  silence.  But  when  he  thought  of  George, 
his  heart  was  bitter  against  fate  because  that  young 
life  had  been  so  pitifully  wasted.  He  remembered 


180  THE    EXPLORER 

so  well  the  eagerness  with  which  he  had  sought  to 
bind  George  to  him,  his  desire  to  gain  the  boy's 
affection;  and  he  remembered  the  dismay  with  which 
he  learned  that  he  was  worthless.  The  frank  smile, 
the  open  countenance,  the  engaging  eyes,  meant  noth- 
ing; the  boy  was  truthless,  crooked  of  nature,  weak. 
Alec  remembered  how,  refusing  to  acknowledge  the 
faults  that  were  so  plain,  he  blamed  the  difficulty  of  his 
own  nature;  and,  when  it  was  impossible  to  overlook 
them,  his  earnest  efforts  to  get  the  better  of  them. 
But  the  effect  of  Africa  was  too  strong.  Alec  had  seen 
many  men  lose  their  heads  under  the  influence  of  that 
climate.  The  feeling  of  an  authority  that  seemed  so 
little  limited,  over  a  race  that  was  manifestly  inferior, 
the  subtle  magic  of  the  hot  sunshine,  the  vastness, 
the  remoteness  from  civilisation,  were  very  apt  to  throw 
a  man  off  his  balance.  The  French  had  coined  a  name 
for  the  distemper  and  called  it  folie  d'Afrique.  Men 
seemed  to  go  mad  from  a  sense  of  power,  to  lose  all  the 
restraints  which  had  kept  them  in  the  way  of  righteous- 
ness. It  needed  a  strong  head  or  a  strong  morality 
to  avoid  the  danger,  and  George  had  neither.  He  suc- 
cumbed. He  lost  all  sense  of  shame,  and  there  was 
no  power  to  hold  him.  And  it  was  more  hopeless  be- 
cause nothing  could  keep  him  from  drinking.  When 
Macinnery  had  been  dismissed  for  breaking  Alec's  most 
stringent  law,  things,  notwithstanding  George's  prom- 
ise of  amendment,  had  only  gone  from  bad  to  worse. 
Alec  remembered  how  he  had  come  back  to  the  camp  in 
which  he  had  left  George,  to  find  the  men  mutinous, 
most  of  them  on  the  point  of  deserting,  and  George 
drunk.  He  had  flown  then  into  such  a  rage  that  he 
could  not  control  himself.  He  was  ashamed  to  think 


THE    EXPLORER  181 

of  it.  He  had  seized  George  by  the  shoulders  and 
shaken  him,  shaken  him  as  though  he  were  a  rat;  and 
it  was  with  difficulty  that  he  prevented  himself  from 
thrashing  him  with  his  own  hands. 

And  at  last  had  come  the  final  madness  and  the 
brutal  murder.  Alec  set  his  mind  to  consider  once 
more  those  hazardous  days  during  which  by  George's 
folly  they  had  been  on  the  brink  of  destruction. 
George  had  met  his  death  on  that  desperate  march  to 
the  ford,  and  lacking  courage,  had  died  miserably. 
Alec  threw  back  his  head  with  a  curious  movement. 

'  I  was  right  in  all  I  did,'  he  muttered. 

George  deserved  to  die,  and  he  was  unworthy  to  be 
lamented.  And  yet,  at  that  moment,  when  he  was  ap- 
proaching the  shores  which  George,  too,  perhaps,  had 
loved,  Alec's  heart  was  softened.  He  sighed  deeply. 
It  was  fate.  If  George  had  inherited  the  wealth  which 
he  might  have  counted  on,  if  his  father  had  escaped 
that  cruel  end,  he  might  have  gone  through  life  hap- 
pily enough.  He  would  have  done  no  differently  from 
his  fellows.  With  the  safeguards  about  him  of  a 
civilised  state,  his  irresolution  would  have  prevented 
him  from  going  astray;  and  he  would  have  been  a  de- 
cent country  gentleman — selfish,  weak,  and  insignifi- 
cant perhaps,  but  not  remarkably  worse  than  his  fel- 
lows— and  when  he  died  he  might  have  been  mourned 
by  a  loving  wife  and  fond  children. 

Now  he  lay  on  the  borders  of  an  African  swamp, 
unsepulchred,  unwept;  and  Alec  had  to  face  Lucy, 
with  the  story  in  his  heart  that  he  had  sworn  on  his 
honour  not  to  tell. 


XIII 

ALEC'S  first  visit  was  to  Lucy.  No  one  knew  that  he 
had  arrived,  and  after  changing  his  clothes  at  the 
rooms  in  Pall  Mall  that  he  had  taken  for  the  sum- 
mer, he  walked  to  Charles  Street.  His  heart  leaped 
as  he  strolled  up  the  hill  of  St.  James  Street,  bright 
by  a  fortunate  chance  with  the  sunshine  of  a  summer 
day;  and  he  rejoiced  in  the  gaiety  of  the  well-dressed 
youths  who  sauntered  down,  bound  for  one  or  other 
of  the  clubs,  taking  off  their  hats  with  a  rapid  smile 
of  recognition  to  charming  women  who  sat  in  vic- 
torias or  in  electric  cars.  There  was  an  air  of  opulence 
in  the  broad  street,  of  a  civilisation  rciined  without  bru- 
tality, which  was  very  grateful  to  hio  eyes  accustomed 
for  so  long  to  the  wilderness  of  Africa. 

The  gods  were  favourable  to  his  wishes  that  day, 
for  Lucy  was  at  home;    she  sat  in  the  drawing-room, 
by  the  window,  reading  a  novel.     At  her  side  were 
masses  of  flowers,  and  his  first  glimpse  of  her  was 
against  a  great  bowl  of  roses.     The  servant  announced 
his  name,  and  she  sprang  up  with  a  cry.     She  flushed 
with  excitement,   and  then  the  blood   fled   from  her 
cheeks,    and    she    became    extraordinarily    pale.     Alec 
noticed  that  she  was  whiter  and  thinner  than  when  last 
he  had  seen  her;    but  she  was  more  beautiful. 
'  I  didn't  expect  you  so  soon,'  she  faltered.  ' 
And   then  unaccountably   tears   came   to   her   eyes. 
Falling  back  into  her  chair,  she  hid  her  face.     Her 
heart  began  to  beat  painfully. 
189 


THE    EXPLORER  183 

'  You  must  forgive  me,'  she  said,  trying  to  smile.  '  I 
can't  help  being  very  silly/ 

For  days  Lucy  had  lived  in  an  agony  of  terror,  fear- 
ing this  meeting,  and  now  it  had  come  upon  her  un- 
expectedly. More  than  four  years  had  passed  since  last 
they  had  seen  one  another,  and  they  had  been  years  of 
anxiety  and  distress.  She  was  certain  that  she  had 
changed,  and  looking  with  pitiful  dread  in  the  glass, 
she  told  herself  that  she  was  pale  and  dull.  She  was 
nearly  thirty.  There  were  lines  about  her  eyes, 
and  her  mouth  had  a  bitter  droop.  She  had  no  mercy 
on  herself.  She  would  not  minimise  the  ravages  of 
time,  and  with  a  brutal  frankness  insisted  on  seeing 
herself  as  she  might  be  in  ten  years,  when  an  increas- 
ing leanness,  emphasising  the  lines  and  increasing  the 
prominence  of  her  features,  made  her  still  more  hag- 
gard. She  was  seized  with  utter  dismay.  He  might 
have  ceased  to  love  her.  His  life  had  been  so  full, 
occupied  with  strenuous  adventures,  while  hers  had 
been  used  up  in  waiting,  only  in  waiting.  It  was 
natural  enough  that  the  strength  of  her  passion  should 
only  have  increased,  but  it  was  natural  too  that  his 
should  have  vanished  before  a  more  urgent  preoccupa- 
tion. And  what  had  she  to  offer  him  now  ?  She  turned 
away  from  the  glass  because  her  tears  blurred  the  image 
it  presented;  and  if  she  looked  forward  to  the  first 
meeting  with  vehement  eagerness,  it  was  also  with  sick- 
ening dread. 

And  now  she  was  so  troubled  that  she  could  not  adopt 
the  attitude  of  civil  friendliness  which  she  had  intended 
in  order  to  show  him  that  she  made  no  claim  upon 
him.  She  wanted  to  seem  quite  collected  so  that  her 
behaviour  should  not  lead  him  to  think  her  heart 


184  THE    EXPLORER 

at  all  affected,  but  she  could  only  watch  his  eyes  hun- 
grily. She  braced  herself  to  restrain  a  wail  of  sorrow 
if  she  saw  his  disillusionment.  He  talked  in  order  to 
give  time  for  her  to  master  her  agitation. 

'  I  was  afraid  there  would  be  interviewers  and  bor- 
ing people  generally  to  meet  me  if  I  came  by  the  boat 
by  which  I  was  expected,  so  I  got  into  another,  and  I've 
arrived  a  day  before  my  time/ 

She  was  calmer  now,  and  though  she  did  not  speak, 
she  looked  at  him  with  strained  attention,  hanging  on 
his  words. 

He  was  very  bronzed,  thin  after  his  recent  illness, 
but  he  looked  well  and  strong.  His  manner  had 
the  noble  self-confidence  which  had  delighted  her 
of  old,  and  he  spoke  with  the  quiet  deliberation  she 
loved.  Now  and  then  a  faint  inflection  betrayed  his 
Scottish  birth. 

'  I  felt  that  I  owed  my  first  visit  to  you.  Can  you 
ever  forgive  me  that  I  have  not  brought  George  home 
to  you  ? ' 

Lucy  gave  a  sudden  gasp.  And  with  bitter  self- 
reproach  she  realised  that  in  the  cruel  joy  of  seeing 
Alec  once  more  she  had  forgotten  her  brother.  She 
was  ashamed.  It  was  but  eighteen  months  since  he 
had  died,  but  twelve  since  the  cruel  news  had  reached 
her,  and  now,  at  this  moment  of  all  others,  she  was  so 
absorbed  in  her  love  that  no  other  feeling  could  enter 
her  heart. 

She  looked  down  at  her  dress.  Its  half-mourning 
still  betokened  that  she  had  lost  one  who  was  very 
dear  to  her,  but  the  black  and  white  was  a  mockery. 
She  remembered  in  a  flash  the  stunning  grief  which 
Alec's  letter  had  brought  her.  It  seemed  at  first  that 


THE    EXPLORER  185 

there  must  be  a  mistake  and  that  her  tears  were  but 
part  of  a  hateful  dream.  It  was  too  monstrously  un- 
just that  the  fates  should  have  hit  upon  George.  She 
had  already  suffered  too  much.  And  George  was  so 
young.  It  was  very  hard  that  a  mere  boy  should  be 
robbed  of  the  precious  jewel  which  is  life.  And  when 
she  realised  that  it  was  really  true,  her  grief  knew  no 
bounds.  All  that  she  had  hoped  was  come  to  nought, 
and  now  she  could  only  despair.  She  bitterly  regretted 
that  she  had  ever  allowed  the  boy  to  go  on  that  fatal 
expedition,  and  she  blamed  herself  because  it  was  she 
who  had  arranged  it.  He  must  have  died  accusing  her 
of  his  death.  Her  father  was  dead,  and  George  was 
dead,  and  she  was  alone.  Now  she  had  only  Alec;  and 
then,  like  some  poor  stricken  beast,  her  heart  went 
out  to  him,  crying  for  love,  crying  for  protection.  All 
her  strength,  the  strength  on  which  she  had  prided 
herself,  was  gone ;  and  she  felt  utterly  weak  and  utterly 
helpless.  And  her  heart  yearned  for  Alec,  and  the 
love  which  had  hitherto  been  like  a  strong  enduring 
light,  now  was  a  consuming  fire. 

But  Alec's  words  brought  the  recollection  of  George 
back  to  her  reproachful  heart,  and  she  saw  the  boy  as 
she  was  always  pleased  to  remember  him,  in  his  flan- 
nels, the  open  shirt  displaying  his  fine  white  neck,  with 
the  Panama  hat  that  suited  him  so  well;  and  she  saw 
again  his  pleasant  blue  eyes  and  his  engaging  smile. 
He  was  a  picture  of  honest  English  manhood.  There 
was  a  sob  in  her  throat,  and  her  voice  trembled  when 
she  spoke. 

'  I  told  you  that  if  he  died  a  brave  man's  death  I 
could  ask  no  more.' 

She  spoke  in  so  low  a  tone  that  Alec  could  scarcely 


186  THE   EXPLORER 

hear,  but  his  pulse  throbbed  with  pride  at  her  courag*. 
She  went  on,  almost  in  a  whisper. 

*  I  suppose  it  was  predestined  that  our  family  should 
coma  to  an  end  in  this  way.  I'm  thankful  that  George 
so  died  that  his  ancestors  need  have  felt  no  shame  for 
him/ 

'  You  are  very  brave.' 

She  shook  her  head  slowly. 

'  No,  it's  not  courage ;  it's  despair.  Sometimes,  when 
I  think  what  his  father  was,  I'm  thankful  that  George 
is  dead.  For  at  least  his  end  was  heroic.  He  died  in 
a  noble  cause,  in  the  performance  of  his  duty.  Life 
would  have  been  too  hard  for  him  to  allow  me  to  regret 
his  end.' 

Alec  watched  her.  He  foresaw  the  words  that  she 
would  say,  and  he  waited  for  them. 

'  I  want  to  thank  you  for  all  you  did  for  him,'  she 
said,  steadying  her  voice. 

'  You  need  not  do  that,'  he  answered,  gravely. 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then  she  raised  her 
eyes  and  looked  at  him  steadily.  Her  voice  now  had 
regained  its  usual  calmness. 

'  I  want  you  to  tell  me  that  he  did  all  I  could  have 
wished  him  to  do.' 

To  Alec  it  seemed  that  she  must  notice  the  delay  of 
his  answer.  He  had  not  expected  that  the  question 
would  be  put  to  him  so  abruptly.  He  had  no  moral 
scruples  about  telling  a  deliberate  lie,  but  it  affected 
him  with  a  physical  distaste.  It  sickened  him  like 
nauseous  water. 

'  Yes,  I  think  he  did.' 

'  It's  my  only  consolation  that  in  the  short  time  there 
was  given  to  him,  he  did  nothing  that  was  small  or 


THE    EXPLORER  187 

mean,  and  that  in  everything  he  was  honourable,  up- 
right, and  just  dealing/ 

1  Yes,  he  was  all  that/ 

'And  in  his  death?' 

It  seemed  to  Alec  that  something  caught  at  his 
throat.  The  ordeal  was  more  terrible  than  he  ex- 
pected. 

'  In  his  death  he  was  without  fear/ 

Lucy  drew  a  deep  breath  of  relief. 

*  Oh,  thank  God !  Thank  God !  You  don't  know  how 
much  it  means  to  me  to  hear  all  that  from  your  own 
lips.  I  feel  that  in  a  manner  his  courage,  above  all  his 
death,  have  redeemed  my  father's  fault.  It  shows  that 
we're  not  rotten  to  the  core,  and  it  gives  me  back  my 
self-respect.  I  feel  I  can  look  the  world  in  the  face 
once  more.  I'm  infinitely  grateful  to  George.  He's 
repaid  me  ten  thousand  times  for  all  my  love,  and  my 
care,  and  my  anxiety.' 

'  I'm  very  glad  that  it  is  not  only  grief  I  have  brought 
you.  I  was  afraid  you  would  hate  me.' 

Lucy  blushed,  and  there  was  a  new  light  in  her  eyes. 
It  seemed  that  on  a  sudden  she  had  cast  away  the 
load  of  her  unhappiness. 

'  No,  I  could  never  do  that.' 

At  that  moment  they  heard  the  sound  of  a  carriage 
stopping  at  the  door. 

'  There's  Aunt  Alice,'  said  Lucy.  '  She's  been  lunch- 
ing out.' 

'  Then  let  me  go,'  said  Alec.  '  You  must  forgive  me, 
but  I  feel  that  I  want  to  see  no  one  else  to-day.' 

He  rose,  and  she  gave  him  her  hand.  He  held  it 
firmly. 

'  You  haven't  changed  ?  ' 


188  THE    EXPLORER 

'  Don't/  she  cried. 

She  looked  away,  for  once  more  the  tears  were  coming 
to  her  eyes.  She  tried  to  laugh. 

'  I'm  frightfully  weak  and  emotional  now.  You'll 
utterly  despise  me/ 

'  I  want  to  see  you  again  very  soon,'  he  said. 

The  words  of  Euth  came  to  her  mind:  Why  have 
I  found  grace  in  thine  eyes,  that  thou  shouldst  take 
"knowledge  of  me,  and  her  heart  was  very  full.  She 
smiled  in  her  old  charming  way. 

When  he  was  gone  she  drew  a  long  breath.  It  seemed 
that  a  new  joy  was  come  into  her  life,  and  on  a  sudden 
she  felt  a  keen  pleasure  in  all  the  beauty  of  the  world. 
She  turned  to  the  great  bowl  of  flowers  which  stood  on 
a  table  by  the  chair  in  which  she  had  been  sitting,  and 
burying  her  face  in  them,  voluptuously  inhaled  their 
fragrance.  She  knew  that  he  loved  her  still. 


XIV 

THE  fickle  English  weather  for  once  belied  its  reputa- 
tion, and  the  whole  month  of  May  was  warm  and  fine. 
It  seemed  that  the  springtime  brought  back  Lucy's 
youth  to  her;  and,  surrendering  herself  with  all  her 
heart  to  her  new  happiness,  she  took  a  girlish  pleasure 
in  the  gaieties  of  the  season.  Alec  had  said  nothing 
yet,  but  she  was  assured  of  his  love,  and  she  gave  her- 
self up  to  him  with  all  the  tender  strength  of  her 
nature.  She  was  a  little  overwhelmed  at  the  importance 
which  he  seemed  to  have  acquired,  but  she  was  very 
proud  as  well.  The  great  ones  of  the  earth  were  eager 
to  do  him  honour.  Papers  were  full  of  his  praise. 
And  it  delighted  her  because  he  came  to  her  for  pro- 
tection from  lionising  friends.  She  began  to  go  out 
much  more;  and  with  Alec,  Dick  Lomas,  and  Mrs. 
Crowley,  went  much  to  the  opera  and  often  to  the  play. 
They  had  charming  little  dinner  parties  at  the  Carl- 
ton  and  amusing  suppers  at  the  Savoy.  Alec  did 
not  speak  much  on  these  occasions.  It  pleased  him 
to  sit  by  and  listen,  with  a  placid  face  but  smiling  eyes, 
to  the  nonsense  that  Dick  Lomas  and  the  pretty  Ameri- 
can talked  incessantly.  And  Lucy  watched  him.  Every 
day  she  found  something  new  to  interest  her  in  the 
strong,  sunburned  face;  and  sometimes  their  eyes  met: 
then  they  smiled  quietly.  They  were  very  happy. 

One  evening  Dick  asked  the  others  to  sup  with  him; 
and  since  Alec  had  a  public  dinner  to  attend,  and  Lucy 


190  THE    EXPLORER 

was  going  to  the  play  with  Lady  Kelsey,  he  took  Julia 
Crowley  to  the  opera.  To  make  an  even  number  he 
invited  Eobert  Boulger  to  join  them  at  the  Savoy.  After 
brushing  his  hair  with  the  scrupulous  thought  his 
thinning  locks  compelled,  Dick  waited  in  the  vesti- 
bule for  Mrs.  Crowley.  Presently  she  came,  looking 
very  pretty  in  a  gown  of  flowered  brocade  which  made 
her  vaguely  resemble  a  shepherdess  in  an  old  French 
picture.  With  her  diamond  necklace  and  a  tiara  in 
her  dark  hair,  she  looked  like  a  dainty  princess  play- 
ing fantastically  at  the  simple  life. 

'  I  think  people  are  too  stupid,'  she  broke  out,  as  she 
joined  Dick.  '  I've  just  met  a  woman  who  said  to  me : 
"  Oh,  I  hear  you're  going  to  America.  Do  go  and  call 
on  my  sister.  She'll  be  so  glad  to  see  you."  "  I  shall 
be  delighted,"  I  said,  "  but  where  does  your  sister  live  ?  " 
"  Jonesville,  Ohio,"  "  Good  heavens,"  I  said,  "  I  live 
in  New  York,  and  what  should  I  be  doing  in  Jones- 
ville, Ohio?"7 

'  Keep  perfectly  calm/  said  Dick. 

'  I  shall  not  keep  calm/  she  answered.  '  I  hate  to 
be  obviously  thought  next  door  to  a  red  Indian  by  a 
woman  who's  slab-sided  and  round-shouldered.  And 
I'm  sure  she  has  dirty  petticoats.' 

'Why?' 

'  English  women  do/ 

'  What  a  monstrous  libel ! '  cried  Dick. 

At  that  moment  they  saw  Lady  Kelsey  come  in 
with  Lucy,  and  a  moment  later  Alec  and  Robert 
Boulger  joined  them.  They  went  in  to  supper  and  sat 
down. 

'I  hate  Amelia/  said  Mrs.  Crowley  emphatically,  as 
she  laid  her  long  white  gloves  by  the  side  of  her. 


THE    EXPLORER  191 

( I  deplore  the  prejudice  with  which  you  regard  a 
very  jolly  sort  of  a  girl/  answered  Dick. 

'Amelia  has  everything  that  I  thoroughly  object  to 
in  a  woman.  She  has  no  figure,  and  her  legs  are  much 
too  long,  and  she  doesn't  wear  corsets.  In  the  daytime 
she  has  a  weakness  for  picture  hats,  and  she  can't  say 
boo  to  a  goose.' 

'  Who  is  Amelia?  '  asked  Boulger. 

'  Amelia  is  Mr.  Lomas'  affianced  wife/  answered 
the  lady,  with  a  provoking  glance  at  him. 

'  I  didn't  know  you  were  going  to  be  married,  Dick/ 
said  Lady  Kelsey,  inclined  to  be  a  little  hurt  because 
nothing  had  been  said  to  her  of  this. 

'  I'm  not/  he  answered.  '  And  I've  never  set  eyes 
on  Amelia  yet.  She  is  an  imaginary  character  that 
Mrs.  Crowley  has  invented  as  the  sort  of  woman  whom 
I  would  marry.' 

'  I  know  Amelia/  Mrs.  Crowley  went  on.  '  She  wears 
quantities  of  false  hair,  and  she'll  adore  you.  She's  so 
meek  and  so  quiet,  and  she  thinks  you  such  a  marvel. 
But  don't  ask  me  to  be  nice  to  Amelia.' 

'  My  dear  lady,  Amelia  wouldn't  approve  of  you. 
She'd  think  you  much  too  outspoken,  and  she  wouldn't 
like  your  American  accent.  You  must  never  forget 
that  Amelia  is  the  granddaughter  of  a  baronet.' 

'  I  shall  hold  her  up  to  Fleming  as  an  awful  warning 
of  the  woman  whom  I  won't  let  him  marry  at  any 
price.  "  If  you  marry  a  woman  like  that,  Fleming," 
I  shall  say  to  him,  "  I  shan't  leave  you  a  penny.  It  shall 
all  go  the  University  of  Pennsylvania." ' 

'  If  ever  it  is  my  good  fortune  to  meet  Fleming,  I 
shall  have  great  pleasure  in  kicking  him  hard/  said 
Dick.  '  I  think  he's  a  most  objectionable  little  beast.' 


192  THE    EXPLORER 

'  How  can  you  be  so  absurd  ?  Why,  my  dear  Mr.  Lo- 
mas,  Fleming  could  take  you  up  in  one  hand  and  throw 
you  over  a  ten-foot  wall/ 

'  Fleming  must  be  a  sportsman/  said  Bobbie,  who  did 
not  in  the  least  know  whom  they  were  talking  about. 

'  He  is,'  answered  Mrs.  Crowley.  '  He's  been  used 
to  the  saddle  since  he  was  three  years  old,  and  I've 
never  seen  the  fence  that  would  make  him  lift  a  hair. 
And  he's  the  best  swimmer  at  Harvard,  and  he's  a 
wonderful  shot — I  wish  you  could  see  him  shoot,  Mr. 
MacKenzie — and  he's  a  dear.' 

'  Fleming's  a  prig/  said  Dick. 

'  I'm  afraid  you're  too  old  for  Fleming/  said  Mrs. 
Crowley,  looking  at  Lucy.  '  If  it  weren't  for  that,  I'd 
make  him  marry  you.' 

'  Is  Fleming  your  brother,  Mrs.  Crowley  ? '  asked 
Lady  Kelsey. 

'  No,  Fleming's  my  son.' 

'  But  you  haven't  got  a  son/  retorted  the  elder  lady, 
much  mystified. 

'  No,  I  know  I  haven't ;  but  Fleming  would  have 
been  my  son  if  I'd  had  one.' 

'  You  mustn't  mind  them,  Aunt  Alice/  smiled  Lucy 
gaily.  '  They  argue  by  the  hour  about  Amelia  and 
Fleming,  and  neither  of  them  exists;  but  sometimes 
they  go  into  such  details  and  grow  so  excited  that  I 
really  begin  to  believe  in  them  myself.' 

But  Mrs.  Crowley,  though  she  appeared  a  light- 
hearted  and  thoughtless  little  person,  had  much  com- 
mon sense;  and  when  their  party  was  ended  and  she 
was  giving  Dick  a  lift  in  her  carriage,  she  showed  that, 
notwithstanding  her  incessant  chatter,  her  eyes  through- 
out the  evening  had  been  well  occupied. 


THE    EXPLORER  193 

'  Did  you  owe  Bobbie  a  grudge  that  you  asked  him 
to  supper  ? '  she  asked  suddenly. 

1  Good  heavens,  no.    Why  ? ' 

'  I  hope  Fleming  won't  be  such  a  donkey  as  you  are 
when  he's  your  age/ 

'  I'm  sure  Amelia  will  be  much  more  polite  than  you 
to  the  amiable,  middle-aged  gentleman  who  has  the 
good  fortune  to  be  her  husband.' 

'  You  might  have  noticed  that  the  poor  boy  was  eat- 
ing his  heart  out  with  jealousy  and  mortification,  and 
Lucy  was  too  much  absorbed  in  Alec  to  pay  the  very 
smallest  attention  to  him.' 

'  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  ' 

Mrs.  Crowley  gave  him  a  glance  of  amused  disdain. 

'  Haven't  you  noticed  that  Lucy  is  desperately  in  love 
with  Mr.  MacKenzie,  and  it  doesn't  move  her  in  the 
least  that  poor  Bobbie  has  fetched  and  carried  for  her 
for  ten  years,  done  everything  she  deigned  to  ask, 
and  been  generally  nice  and  devoted  and  charming  ? ' 

'  You  amaze  me/  said  Dick.  '  It  never  struck  me 
that  Lucy  was  the  kind  of  girl  to  fall  in  love  with  any- 
one. Poor  thing.  I'm  so  sorry.' 

'Why?' 

*  Because  Alec  wouldn't  dream  of  marrying.  He's 
not  that  sort  of  man.' 

'  Nonsense.  Every  man  is  a  marrying  man  if  a 
woman  really  makes  up  her  mind  to  it.' 

'  Don't  say  that.     You  terrify  me.' 

'  You  need  not  be  in  the  least  alarmed,'  answered 
Mrs.  Crowley,  coolly,  *  because  I  shall  refuse  you/ 

'  It's  very  kind  of  you  to  reassure  me,'  he  answered, 
smiling.  '  But  all  the  same  I  don't  think  I'll  risk  a 
proposal/ 

18 


194  THE    EXPLORER 

'  My  dear  friend,  your  only  safety  is  in  immediate 
flight/ 

'Why?1 

'  It  must  be  obvious  to  the  meanest  intelligence  that 
you've  been  on  the  verge  of  proposing  to  me  for  the 
last  four  years/ 

'  Nothing  will  induce  me  to  be  false  to  Amelia/ 

'  I  don't  believe  that  Amelia  really  loves  you/ 

'  I  never  said  she  did ;  but  I'm  sure  she's  quite 
willing  to  marry  me/ 

'  I  think  that's  detestably  vain/ 

'  Not  at  all.  However  old,  ugly,  and  generally  un- 
desirable a  man  is,  he'll  find  a  heap  of  charming  girls 
who  are  willing  to  marry  him.  Marriage  is  still  the 
only  decent  means  of  livelihood  for  a  really  nice 
woman/ 

1  Don't  let's  talk  about  Amelia;  let's  talk  about  me/ 
said  Mrs.  Crowley. 

'  I  don't  think  you're  half  so  interesting/ 

'  Then  you'd  better  take  Amelia  to  the  play  to-mor- 
row night  instead  of  me/ 

'  I'm  afraid  she's  already  engaged/ 

e  Nothing  will  induce  me  to  play  second  fiddle  to 
Amelia/ 

'  I've  taken  the  seats  and  ordered  an  exquisite  dinner 
at  the  Carlton.' 

1  What  have  you  ordered  ? ' 

'  Potage  bisque.' 

Mrs.  Crowley  made  a  little  face. 

'  Sole  Normande' 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

'Wild  duck/ 

*  With  an  orange  salad  ?  » 


THE    EXPLORER  195 

1  Yes.' 

'  I  don't  positively  dislike  that.' 

'  And  I've  ordered  a  souffle  with  an  ice  in  the  middle 
of  it' 

'  I  shan't  come.' 

'Why?' 

1  You're  not  being  really  nice  to  me.' 

f  I  shouldn't  have  thought  you  kept  very  well  ahreast 
of  dramatic  art  if  you  insist  on  marrying  everyone  who 
takes  you  to  a  theatre,'  he  said. 

'I  was  very  nicely  brought  up,'  she  answered  de- 
murely, as  the  carriage  stopped  at  Dick's  door. 

She  gave  him  a  ravishing  smile  as  he  took  leave  of 
her.  She  knew  that  he  was  quite  prepared  to  marry 
her,  and  she  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  she  was 
willing  to  have  him.  Neither  much  wished  to  hurry 
the  affair,  and  each  was  determined  that  he  would  only 
yield  to  save  the  other  from  a  fancied  desperation. 
Their  love-making  was  pursued  with  a  light  heart. 

At  Whitsuntide  the  friends  separated.  Alec  went 
up  to  Scotland  to  see  his  house  and  proposed  after- 
wards to  spend  a  week  in  Lancashire.  He  had  always 
taken  a  keen  interest  in  the  colliery  which  brought  him 
so  large  an  income,  and  he  wanted  to  examine  into 
certain  matters  that  required  his  attention.  Mrs. 
Crowley  went  to  Blackstable,  where  she  still  had  Court 
Leys,  and  Dick,  in  order  to  satisfy  himself  that  he  was 
not  really  a  day  older,  set  out  for  Paris.  But  they  all 
arranged  to  meet  again  on  the  day,  immediately  after 
the  holidays,  which  Lady  Kelsey,  having  persuaded 
Lucy  definitely  to  renounce  her  life  of  comparative 
retirement,  had  fixed  for  a  dance.  It  was  the  first 


196  THE   EXPLORER 

ball  she  had  given  for  many  years,  and  she  meant  it 
to  be  brilliant.  Lady  Kelsey  had  an  amiable  weakness 
for  good  society,  and  Alec's  presence  would  add  lustre 
to  the  occasion.  Meanwhile  she  went  with  Lucy  to  her 
little  place  on  the  river,  and  did  not  return  till  two 
days  before  the  party.  They  were  spent  in  a  turmoil 
of  agitation.  Lady  Kelsey  passed  sleepless  nights, 
fearing  at  one  moment  that  not  a  soul  would  appear, 
and  at  another  that  people  would  come  in  such  num- 
bers that  there  would  not  be  enough  for  them  to  eat. 
The  day  arrived. 

But  then  happened  an  event  which  none  but  Alec 
could  in  the  least  have  expected;  and  he,  since  his 
return  from  Africa,  had  been  so  taken  up  with  his 
love  for  Lucy,  that  the  possibility  of  it  had  slipped 
his  memory. 

Fergus  Macinnery,  the  man  whom  three  years  before 
he  had  dismissed  ignominously  from  his  service,  found 
a  v?ay  to  payoff  an  old  score. 

Of  the  people  most  nearly  concerned  in  the  matter, 
it  was  Lady  Kelsey  who  had  first  news  of  it.  The 
morning  papers  were  brought  into  her  boudoir  with 
her  breakfast,  and  as  she  poured  out  her  coffee,  she  ran 
her  eyes  lazily  down  the  paragraphs  of  the  Morning 
Post  in  which  are  announced  the  comings  and  goings 
of  society.  Then  she  turned  to  the  Daily  Mail.  Her 
attention  was  suddenly  arrested.  Staring  at  her,  in 
the  most  prominent  part  of  the  page,  was  a  column  of 
printed  matter  headed :  Th-e  Death  of  Mr.  George 
Allerton.  It  was  a  letter,  a  column  long,  signed  by 
Fergus  Macinnery.  Lady  Kelsey  read  it  with  amaze- 
ment and  dismay.  At  first  she  could  not  follow  it,  and 
she  read  it  again;  now  its  sense  was  clear  to  her,  and 


THE    EXPLORER  197 

she  was  overcome  with  horror.  In  set  words,  mincing 
no  terms,  it  accused  Alec  MacKenzie  of  sending  George 
Allerton  to  his  death  in  order  to  save  himself.  The 
words  treachery  and  cowardice  were  used  boldly.  The 
dates  were  given,  and  the  testimony  of  natives  was 
adduced. 

The  letter  adverted  with  scathing  sarcasm  to  the 
rewards  and  congratulations  which  had  fallen  to 
MacKenzie  as  a  result  of  his  labours;  and  ended  with 
a  challenge  to  him  to  bring  an  action  for  crim- 
inal libel  against  the  writer.  At  first  the  whole  thing 
seemed  monstrous  to  Lady  Kelsey,  it  was  shameful, 
shameful;  but  in  a  moment  she  found  there  was  a 
leading  article  on  the  subject,  and  then  she  did  not 
know  what  to  believe.  It  referred  to  the  letter  in  no 
measured  terms :  the  writer  observed  that  prima  facie 
the  case  was  very  strong  and  called  upon  Alec  to  reply 
without  delay.  Big  words  were  used,  and  there  was 
much  talk  of  a  national  scandal.  An  instant  refuta- 
tion was  demanded.  Lady  Kelsey  did  not  know  what 
on  earth  to  do,  and  her  thoughts  flew  to  the  dance, 
the  success  of  which  would  certainly  be  imperilled  by 
these  revelations.  She  must  have  help  at  once.  This 
business,  if  it  concerned  the  world  in  general,  certainly 
concerned  Lucy  more  than  anyone.  Ringing  for  her 
maid,  she  told  her  to  get  Dick  Lomas  on  the  telephone 
and  ask  him  to  come  at  once.  While  she  was  waiting, 
she  heard  Lucy  come  downstairs  and  knew  that  she 
meant  to  wish  her  good-morning.  She  hid  the  paper 
hurriedly. 

When  Lucy  came  in  and  kissed  her,  she  said : 

'  What  is  the  news  this  morning  ?  ' 

( I  don't  think  there  is  any/  said  Lady  Kelsey,  un- 


198  THE    EXPLORER 

easily.  '  Only  the  Post  has  come ;  we  shall  really  have 
to  change  our  newsagent/ 

She  waited  with  beating  heart  for  Lucy  to  pursue  the 
subject,  but  naturally  enough  the  younger  woman  did 
not  trouble  herself.  She  talked  to  her  aunt  of  the 
preparations  for  the  party  that  evening,  and  then,  say- 
ing that  she  had  much  to  do,  left  her.  She  had  no 
sooner  gone  than  Lady  Kelsey's  maid  came  back  to  say 
that  Lomas  was  out  of  town  and  not  expected  back  till 
the  evening.  Distractedly  Lady  Kelsey  sent  messages 
to  her  nephew  and  to  Mrs.  Crowley.  She  still  looked 
upon  Bobbie  as  Lucy's  future  husband,  and  the  little 
American  was  Lucy's  greatest  friend.  They  were  both 
found.  Boulger  had  gone  down  as  usual  to  the  city, 
but  in  consideration  of  Lady  Kelsey's  urgent  request, 
set  out  at  once  to  see  her. 

He  had  changed  little  during  the  last  four  years, 
and  had  still  a  boyish  look  on  his  round,  honest  face. 
To  Mrs.  Crowley  he  seemed  always  an  embodiment  of 
British  philistinism;  and  if  she  liked  him  for  his 
devotion  to  Lucy,  she  laughed  at  him  for  his  stolidity. 
When  he  arrived,  Mrs.  Crowley  was  already  with  Lady 
Kelsey.  She  had  known  nothing  of  the  terrible  letter, 
and  Lady  Kelsey,  thinking  that  perhaps  it  had  escaped 
him  too,  went  up  to  him  with  the  Daily  Mail  in  her 
hand. 

'  Have  you  seen  the  paper,  Bobbie  ? '  she  asked  ex- 
citedly. '  What  on  earth  are  we  to  do  ? ' 

He  nodded. 

'  What  does  Lucy  say?  '  he  asked. 

'  Oh,  I've  not  let  her  see  it.  I  told  a  horrid  fib  and 
said  the  newsagent  had  forgotten  to  leave  it/ 

'  But  she  must  know/  he  answered  gravely. 


THE    EXPLORER  199 

'  Not  to-day/  protested  Lady  Kelsey.  '  Oh,  it's  too 
dreadful  that  this  should  happen  to-day  of  all  days. 
Why  couldn't  they  wait  till  to-morrow  ?  After  all  Lucy's 
troubles  it  seemed  as  if  a  little  happiness  was  coming 
back  into  her  life,  and  now  this  dreadful  thing  hap- 
pens.' 

'  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  '  asked  Bobbie. 

'  What  can  I  do  ?  '  said  Lady  Kelsey  desperately.  '  I 
can't  put  the  dance  off.  I  wish  I  had  the  courage  to 
write  and  ask  Mr.  MacKenzie  not  to  come.' 

Bobbie  made  a  slight  gesture  of  impatience.  It  irri- 
tated him  that  his  aunt  should  harp  continually  on  the 
subject  of  this  wretched  dance.  But  for  all  that  he 
tried  to  reassure  her. 

'  I  don't  think  you  need  be  afraid  of  MacKenzie. 
He'll  never  venture  to  show  his  face/ 

'  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  think  there's  any  truth 
in  the  letter  ? '  exclaimed  Mrs.  Crowley. 

He  turned  and  faced  her. 

'  I've  never  read  anything  more  convincing  in  my 
life/ 

Mrs.  Crowley  looked  at  him,  and  he  returned  her 
glance  steadily. 

Of  those  three  it  was  only  Lady  Kelsey  who  did 
not  know  that  Lucy  was  deeply  in  love  with  Alec  Mac- 
Kenzie. 

'  Perhaps  you're  inclined  to  be  unjust  to  him/  said 
Mrs.  Crowley. 

*  We  shall  see  if  he  has  any  answer  to  make/  he 
answered  coldly.  '  The  evening  papers  are  sure  to  get 
something  out  of  him.  The  city  is  ringing  with  the 
story,  and  he  must  say  something  at  once/ 

'  It's  quite  impossible  that  there  should  be  anything 


200  THE    EXPLORER 

in  it,'  said  Mrs.  Crowley.  '  We  all  know  the  circum- 
etances  under  which  George  went  out  with  him.  It's  in- 
conceivable that  he  should  have  sacrificed  him  as  cal- 
lously as  this  man's  letter  makes  out.' 

1  We  shall  see.' 

'You  never  liked  him,  Bobbie,'  said  Lady  Kelsey. 

'  I  didn't,'  he  answered  briefly. 

'I  wish  I'd  never  thought  of  giving  this  horrid 
dance,'  she  moaned. 

Presently,  however,  they  succeeded  in  calming  Lady 
Kelsey.  Though  both  thought  it  unwise,  they  deferred 
to  her  wish  that  everything  should  be  hidden  from 
Lucy  till  the  morrow.  Dick  Lomas  was  arriving  from 
Paris  that  evening,  and  it  would  be  possible  then  to 
take  his  advice.  When  at  last  Mrs.  Crowley  left  the 
elder  woman  to  her  own  devices,  her  thoughts  went  to 
Alec.  She  wondered  where  he  was,  and  if  he  already 
knew  that  his  name  was  more  prominently  than  ever 
before  the  public. 

MacKenzie  was  travelling  down  from  Lancashire. 
He  was  not  a  man  who  habitually  r°ad  papers,  and  it 
was  in  fact  only  by  chance  that  he  saw  a  copy  of  the 
Daily  Mail.  A  fellow  traveller  had  with  him  a  number 
of  papers,  and  offered  one  of  them  to  Alec.  He  took 
it  out  of  mere  politeness.  His  thoughts  were  other- 
wise occupied,  and  he  scanned  it  carelessly.  Suddenly 
he  saw  the  heading  which  had  attracted  Lady  Kelsey'a 
attention.  He  read  the  letter,  and  he  read  the  leading 
article.  No  one  who  watched  him  could  have  guessed 
that  what  he  read  concerned  him  so  nearly.  His  face 
remained  impassive.  Then,  letting  the  paper  fall  to 
the  ground,  he  began  to  think.  Presently  he  turned 


THE    EXPLORER  201 

to  the  amiable  stranger  who  had  given  him  the  paper, 
and  asked  him  if  he  had  seen  the  letter. 

'  Awful  thing,  isn't  it?  '  the  man  said. 

Alec  fixed  upon  him  his  dark,  firm  eyes.  The  man 
seemed  an  average  sort  of  person,  not  without  intelli- 
gence. 

'What  do  you  think  of  it?' 

'  Pity/  he  said.  '  I  thought  MacKenzie  was  a  great 
man.  I  don't  know  what  he  can  do  now  but  shoot  him- 
self/ 

'  Do  you  think  there's  any  truth  in  it  ? ' 

'  The  letter's  perfectly  damning/ 

Alec  did  not  answer.  In  order  to  break  off  the  con- 
versation he  got  up  and  walked  into  the  corridor.  He 
lit  a  cigar  and  watched  the  green  fields  that  fled  past 
them.  For  two  hours  he  stood  motionless.  At  last  he 
took  his  seat  again,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  and 
a  scornful  smile  on  his  lips. 

The  stranger  was  asleep,  with  his  head  thrown  back 
and  his  mouth  slightly  open.  Alec  wondered  whether 
his  opinion  of  the  affair  would  be  that  of  the  majority. 
He  thought  Alec  should  shoot  himself  ? 

*  I  can  see  myself  doing  it/  Alec  muttered. 


XV 


A  FEW  hours  later  Lady  Kelsey's  dance  was  in  full 
swing,  and  to  all  appearances  it  was  a  great  success. 
Many  people  were  there,  and  everyone  seemed  to  enjoy 
himself.  On  the  surface,  at  all  events,  there  was 
nothing  to  show  that  anything  had  occurred  to  disturb 
the  evening's  pleasure,  and  for  most  of  the  party  the 
letter  in  the  Daily  Mail  was  no  more  than  a  welcome 
topic  of  conversation. 

Presently  Canon  Spratte  went  into  the  smoking- 
room.  He  had  on  his  arm,  as  was  his  amiable  habit, 
the  prettiest  girl  at  the  dance,  Grace  Vizard,  a  niece 
of  that  Lady  Vizard  who  was  a  pattern  of  all  the  pro- 
prieties and  a  devout  member  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 
He  found  that  Mrs.  Crowley  and  Robert  Boulger 
were  already  sitting  there,  and  he  greeted  them  cour- 
teously. 

*  I  really  must  have  a  cigarette/  he  said,  going  up  to 
the  table  on  which  were  all  the  necessary  things  for  re- 
freshment. 

'  If  you  press  me  dreadfully  I'll  have  one,  too/  said 
Mrs.  Crowley,  with  a  flash  of  her  beautiful  teeth. 

'  Don't  press  her/  said  Bobbie.  '  She's  had  six  al- 
ready, and  in  a  moment  she'll  be  seriously  unwell.' 

'  Well,  I'll  forego  the  pressing,  but  not  the  cagarette.' 

Canon  Spratte  gallantly  handed  her  the  box,  and  gave 
her  a  light. 

'  It's  against  all  my  principles,  you  know/  he  smiled. 

*  What  is  the  use  of  principles  except  to  give  one  an 

203 


THE    EXPLORER  203 

agreeable  sensation  of  wickedness  when  one  doesn't  act 
up  to  them  ?  ' 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  her  mouth  when  Dick 
and  Lady  Kelsey  appeared. 

'  Dear  Mrs.  Crowley,  you're  as  epigrammatic  as  a 
dramatist,'  he  exclaimed.  '  Do  you  say  such  things 
from  choice  or  necessity  ? ' 

He  had  arrived  late,  and  this  was  the  first  time  she 
had  seen  him  since  they  had  all  gone  their  ways  before 
Whitsun.  He  mixed  himself  a  whisky  and  soda. 

'  After  all,  is  there  anything  you  know  so  thoroughly 
insufferable  as  a  ball  ? '  he  said,  reflectively,  as  he 
sipped  it  with  great  content. 

'Nothing,  if  you  ask  me  pointblank,'  said  Lady 
Kelsey,  smiling  with  relief  because  he  took  so  flip- 
pantly the  news  she  had  lately  poured  into  his  ear. 
'  But  it's  excessively  rude  of  you  to  say  so/ 

'  I  don't  mind  yours,  Lady  Kelsey,  because  I  can 
smoke  as  much  as  I  please,  and  keep  away  from  the 
sex  which  is  technically  known  as  fair.' 

Mrs.  Crowley  felt  the  remark  was  directed  to  her. 

e  I'm  sure  you  think  us  a  vastly  overrated  institution, 
Mr.  Lomas,'  she  murmured. 

'  I  venture  to  think  the  world  was  not  created  merely 
to  give  women  an  opportunity  to  wear  Paris  frocks.' 

'  I'm  rather  pleased  to  hear  you  say  that.' 

'  Why  ?  '  asked  Dick,  on  his  guard. 

c  We're  all  so  dreadfully  tired  of  being  goddesses. 
For  centuries  foolish  men  have  set  us  up  on  a  pedestal 
and  vowed  they  were  unworthy  to  touch  the  hem  of  our 
garments.  And  it  is  so  dull.' 

'  What  a  clever  woman  you  are,  Mrs.  Crowley.  You 
always  say  what  you  don't  mean,' 


204  THE    EXPLORER 

'  You're  really  very  rude.' 

'  Now  that  impropriety  is  out  of  fashion,  rudeness  is 
the  only  short  cut  to  a  reputation  for  wit.' 

Canon  Spratte  did  not  like  Dick.  He  thought  he 
talked  too  much.  It  was  fortunately  easy  to  change 
the  conversation. 

'  Unlike  Mr.  Lomas,  I  thoroughly  enjoy  a  dance,' 
he  said,  turning  to  Lady  Kelsey.  '  My  tastes  are  in- 
genuous, and  I  can  only  hope  you've  enjoyed  your 
evening  as  much  as  your  guests.' 

'  I  ? '  cried  Lady  Kelsey.  ( I've  heen  suffering 
agonies.'  They  all  knew  to  what  she  referred,  and  the 
remark  gave  Boulger  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  Dick 
Lomas. 

'I  suppose  you  saw  the  Mail  this  morning?'  he 
asked. 

'  I  never  read  the  papers  except  in  August,'  answered 
Dick  drily. 

1  When  there's  nothing  in  them  ?  '  asked  Mrs.  Crow- 
ley. 

1  Pardon  me,  I  am  an  eager  student  of  the  sea-ser- 
pent and  of  the  giant  gooseberry.' 

( I  should  like  to  kick  that  man,'  said  Bobbie,  indig- 
nantly. 

Dick  smiled. 

'  My  dear  chap,  Alec  is  a  hardy  Scot  and  bigger  than 
yon;  I  really  shouldn't  advise  you  to  try.' 

'  Of  course  you've  heard  all  about  this  business  ?  '  said 
Canon  Spratte. 

'  I've  only  just  arrived  from  Paris.  I  knew  nothing 
of  it  till  Lady  Kelsey  told  me/ 

'What  do  you  think?' 


THE    EXPLORER  205 

'  I  don't  think  at  all ;  I  Tcnow  there's  not  a  word  of 
truth  in  it.  Since  Alec  arrived  at  Mombassa,  he's  been 
acclaimed  by  everyone,  private  and  public,  who  had 
any  right  to  an  opinion.  Of  course  it  couldn't  last. 
There  was  bound  to  be  a  reaction/ 

'  Do  you  know  anything  of  this  man  Macinnery  ?  ' 
asked  Boulger. 

1  It  so  happens  that  I  do.  Alec  found  him  half 
starving  at  Mombassa,  and  took  him  solely  out  of  char- 
ity. But  he  was  a  worthless  rascal  and  had  to  be  sent 
back.' 

'  He  seems  to  me  to  give  ample  proof  for  every  word 
he  says/  retorted  Bobbie. 

Dick  shrugged  his  shoulders  scornfully. 

'  As  I've  already  explained  to  Lady  Kelsey,  when- 
ever an  explorer  comes  home  there's  someone  to  tell 
nasty  stories  about  him.  People  forget  that  kid  gloves 
are  not  much  use  in  a  tropical  forest,  and  they  grow 
very  indignant  when  they  hear  that  a  man  has  used  a 
little  brute  force  to  make  himself  respected/ 

'  All  that's  beside  the  point,'  said  Boulger,  impa- 
tiently. '  MacKenzie  sent  poor  George  into  a  con- 
founded trap  to  save  his  own  dirty  skin/ 

'  Poor  Lucy ! '  moaned  Lady  Kelsey.  '  First  her 
father  died  .  .  ." 

*  You're  not  going  to  count  that  as  an  overwhelming 
misfortune  ? '  Dick  interrupted.     '  We  were  unanimous 
in  describing  that  gentleman's  demise  as  an  uncommon 
happy  release/ 

*  I  was  engaged  to  dine  with  him  this  evening/  said 
Bobbie,  pursuing  his  own  bitter  reflections.     '  I  wired 
to  say  I  had  a  headache  and  couldn't  come/ 


206  THE    EXPLORER 

'  What  will  he  think  if  he  sees  you  here  ?  '  cried  Lady 
Kelsey. 

'He  can  think  what  he  likes/ 

Canon  Spratte  felt  that  it  was  needful  now  to  put  in 
the  decisive  word  which  he  always  expected  from  him- 
self. He  rubbed  his  hands  blandly. 

'  In  this  matter  I  must  say  I  agree  entirely  with  our 
friend  Bobbie.  I  read  the  letter  with  the  utmost  care,  and 
I  could  see  no  loophole  of  escape.  Until  Mr.  MacKen- 
zie  gives  a  definite  answer  I  can  hardly  help  looking 
upon  him  as  nothing  less  than  a  murderer.  In  these 
things  I  feel  that  one  should  have  the  courage  of  one's 
opinions.  I  saw  him  in  Piccadilly  this  evening,  and  I 
cut  him  dead.  Nothing  will  induce  me  to  shake  hands 
with  a  man  on  whom  rests  so  serious  an  accusation/ 

'  I  hope  to  goodness  he  doesn't  come/  said  Lady  Kel- 
sey. 

Canon  Spratte  looked  at  his  watch  and  gave  her  a 
reassuring  smile. 

'  I  think  you  may  feel  quite  safe.  It's  really  growing 
very  late/ 

'You  say  that  Lucy  doesn't  know  anything  about 
this?'  asked  Dick. 

'  No/  said  Lady  Kelsey.  '  I  wanted  to  give  her  this 
evening's  enjoyment  unalloyed/ 

Dick  shrugged  his  shoulders  again.  He  did  not  un- 
derstand how  Lady  Kelsey  expected  no  suggestion  to 
reach  Lucy  of  a  matter  which  seemed  a  common  topic 
of  conversation.  The  pause  which  followed  Lady  Kel- 
sey's  words  was  not  broken  when  Lucy  herself  appeared. 
She  was  accompanied  by  a  spruce  young  man,  to  whom 
Bhe  turned  with  a  smile. 

'  I  thought  we  should  find  your  partner  here/ 


THE    EXPLORER  207 

He  went  to  Grace  Vizard,  and  claiming  her  for  the 
dance  that  was  about  to  begin,  took  her  away.  Lucy 
went  up  to  Lady  Kelsey  and  leaned  over  the  chair  in 
which  she  sat. 

'  Are  you  growing  very  tired,  my  aunt  ? '  she  asked 
kindly. 

1 1  can  rest  myself  till  supper  time.  I  don't  think 
anyone  else  will  come  now/ 

'  Have  you  forgotten  Mr.  MacKenzie?' 

Lady  Kelsey  looked  up  quickly,  but  did  not  reply. 
Lucy  put  her  hand  gently  on  her  aunt's  shoulder. 

'  My  dear,  it  was  charming  of  you  to  hide  the  paper 
from  me  this  morning.  But  it  wasn't  very  wise/ 

'Did  you  see  that  letter?'  cried  Lady  Kelsey.  'I 
so  wanted  you  not  to  till  to-morrow/ 

'  Mr.  MacKenzie  very  rightly  thought  I  should  know 
at  once  what  was  said  about  him  and  my  brother.  He 
sent  me  the  paper  himself  this  evening/ 

'  Did  he  write  to  you  ? '  asked  Dick. 

'  No,  he  merely  scribbled  on  a  card :  I  think  you  should 
read  this.' 

No  one  answered.  Lucy  turned  and  faced  them;  her 
cheeks  were  pale,  but  she  was  very  calm.  She  looked 
gravely  at  Eobert  Boulger,  waiting  for  him  to  say  what 
she  knew  was  in  his  mind,  so  that  she  might  express  at 
once  her  utter  disbelief  in  the  charges  that  were  brought 
against  Alec.  But  he  did  not  speak,  and  she  was 
obliged  to  utter  her  defiant  words  without  provocation. 

'  He  thought  it  unnecessary  to  assure  me  that  he 
hadn't  betrayed  the  trust  I  put  in  him/ 

'  Do  you  mean  to  say  the  letter  left  any  doubt  in 
your  mind  ? '  said  Boulger. 

'  Why   on  earth  should   I   believe   the  unsupported 


208  THE    EXPLORER 

words  of  a  subordinate  who  was  dismissed  for  misbe- 
haviour ? ' 

'  For  my  part,  I  can  only  say  that  I  never  read  any- 
thing more  convincing  in  my  life.' 

'  I  could  hardly  believe  him  guilty  of  such  a  crime  if 
he  confessed  it  with  his  own  lips/ 

Bobbie  shrugged  his  shoulders.  It  was  only  with 
difficulty  that  he  held  back  the  cruel  words  that  were  on 
his  lips.  But  as  if  Lucy  read  his  thoughts,  her  cheeks 
flushed. 

'  I  think  it's  infamous  that  you  should  all  be  ready 
to  believe  the  worst/  she  said  hotly,  in  a  low  voice  that 
trembled  with  indignant  anger.  '  You're  all  of  you  so 
petty,  so  mean,  that  you  welcome  the  chance  of  spat- 
tering with  mud  a  man  who  is  so  infinitely  above 
you.  You've  not  given  him  a  chance  to  defend  him- 
self/ 

Bobbie  turned  very  pale.  Lucy  had  never  spoken  to 
him  in  such  a  way  before,  and  wrath  flamed  up  in  his 
heart,  wrath  mixed  with  hopeless  love.  He  paused  for 
a  moment  to  command  himself. 

'  You  don't  know  apparently  that  interviewers  went 
to  him  from  the  evening  papers,  and  he  refused  to 
speak.' 

'  He  has  never  consented  to  be  interviewed.  Why 
should  you  expect  him  now  to  break  his  rule  ? ' 

Bobbie  was  about  to  answer,  when  a  sudden  look  of 
dismay  on  Lady  Kelsey's  face  stopped  him.  He  turned 
round  and  saw  MacKenzie  standing  at  the  door.  He 
came  forward  with  a  smile,  holding  out  his  hand,  and 
addressed  himself  to  Lady  Kelsey. 

'  I  thought  I  should  find  you  here/  he  said. 

He  was  perfectly  collected.    He  glanced  around  the 


THE    EXPLORER  209 

room  with  a  smile  of  quiet  amusement.  A  certain  em- 
barrassment seized  the  little  party,  and  Lady  Kelsey,  as. 
she  shook  hands  with  him,  was  at  a  loss  for  words. 

'  How  do  you  do  ? '  she  faltered.  '  We've  just  been 
talking  of  you/ 

'  Really  ?> 

The  twinkle  in  his  eyes  caused  her  to  lose  the  re- 
mainder of  her  self-possession,  and  she  turned  scarlet. 

'  It's  so  late,  we  were  afraid  you  wouldn't  come.  I 
should  have  been  dreadfully  disappointed.' 

'  It's  very  kind  of  you  to  say  so.  I've  been  at  the 
Travellers,  reading  various  appreciations  of  my  char- 
acter/ 

A  hurried  look  of  alarm  crossed  Lady  Kelsey's  good- 
tempered  face. 

'  Oh,  I  heard  there  was  something  about  you  in  the 
papers,'  she  answered. 

'  There's  a  good  deal.  I  really  had  no  idea  the  world 
was  so  interested  in  me/ 

'  It's  charming  of  you  to  come  here  to-night/  the 
good  lady  smiled,  beginning  to  feel  more  at  ease.  '  I'm 
sure  you  hate  dances/ 

'  Oh,  no,  they  interest  me  enormously.  I  remember, 
an  African  king  once  gave  a  dance  in  my  honour. 
Four  thousand  warriors  in  war-paint.  I  assure  you  it 
was  a  most  impressive  sight/ 

'  My  dear  fellow,'  Dick  chuckled,  '  if  paint  is  the  at- 
traction, you  really  need  not  go  much  further  than 
Mayfair/ 

The  scene  amused  him.  He  was  deeply  interested  in 
Alec's  attitude,  for  he  knew  him  well  enough  to  be  con- 
vinced that  his  discreet  gaiety  was  entirely  assumed. 
It  was  impossible  to  tell  by  it  what  course  he  meant  to 

14 


210  THE   EXPLORER 

adopt;  and  at  the  same  time  there  was  about  him  a 
greater  unapproachableness,  which  warned  all  and  sun- 
dry that  it  would  be  wiser  to  attempt  no  advance. 
But  for  his  own  part  he  did  not  care ;  he  meant  to  have 
a  word  with  Alec  at  the  first  opportunity. 

Alec's  quiet  eyes  now  rested  on  Eobert  Boulger. 

"  Ah,  there's  my  little  friend  Bobbikins.  I  thought 
^ou  had  a  headache  ?  ' 

Lady  Kelsey  remembered  her  nephew's  broken  en- 
gagement and  interposed  quickly. 

( I'm  afraid  Bobbie  is  dreadfully  dissipated.  He's 
not  looking  at  all  well.' 

t  You  shouldn't  keep  such  late  hours/  said  Alec, 
good-humouredly.  '  At  your  age  one  needs  one's  beauty 
sleep.' 

'  It's  very  kind  of  you  to  take  an  interest  in  me/  said 
Boulger,  flushing  with  annoyance.  '  My  headache  has 
passed  off.' 

'  I'm  very  glad.     What  do  you  use — phenacetin  ?  ' 

'  It  went  away  of  its  own  accord  after  dinner/  re- 
turned Bobbie  frigidly,  conscious  that  he  was  being 
laughed  at,  but  unable  to  extricate  himself. 

'  So  you  resolved  to  give  the  girls  a  treat  by  coming 
to  Lady  Kelsey's  dance  ?  How  nice  of  you  not  to  disap- 
point them ! ' 

Alec  turned  to  Lucy,  and  they  looked  into  one  an- 
other's eyes. 

'  I  sent  you  a  paper  this  evening/  he  said  gravely. 

'  It  was  very  good  of  you.' 

There  was  a  silence.  All  who  were  present  felt  that 
the  moment  was  impressive,  and  it  needed  Canon 
Spratte's  determination  to  allow  none  but  himself  to 
monopolise  attention,  to  bring  to  an  end  a  situation 


THE    EXPLORER  211 

which  might  have  proved  awkward.  He  came  forward 
and  offered  his  arm  to  Lucy. 

'  I  think  this  is  my  dance.    May  I  take  you  in  ?  ' 

He  was  trying  to  repeat  the  direct  cut  which  he  had 
given  Alec  earlier  in  the  day.  Alec  looked  at  him. 

'  I  saw  you  in  Piccadilly  this  evening.  You  were 
dashing  about  like  a  young  gazelle/ 

'  I  didn't  see  you/  said  the  Canon,  frigidly. 

'  I  observed  that  you  were  deeply  engrossed  in  the 
shop  windows  as  I  passed.  How  are  you?  ' 

He  held  out  his  hand.  For  a  moment  the  Canon  hesi- 
tated to  take  it,  but  Alec's  gaze  compelled  him. 

'  How  do  you  do  ? '  he  said. 

He  felt,  rather  than  heard,  Dick's  chuckle,  and  red- 
dening, offered  his  arm  to  Lucy. 

'  Won't  you  come,  Mr.  MacKenzie  ? '  said  Lady  Kel- 
sey,  making  the  best  of  her  difficulty. 

'  If  you  don't  mind,  I'll  stay  and  smoke  a  cigarette 
with  Dick  Lomas.  You  know,  I'm  not  a  dancing  man/ 

It  seemed  that  Alec  was  giving  Dick  the  opportunity 
he  sought,  and  as  soon  as  they  found  themselves  alone, 
th-9  sprightly  little  man  attacked  him. 

'  I  suppose  you  know  we  were  all  beseeching  Provi- 
dence you'd  have  the  grace  to  stay  away  to-night  ? '  he 
said. 

'  I  confess  that  I  suspected  it,'  smiled  Alec.  *  I 
shouldn't  have  come,  only  I  wanted  to  see  Miss  Aller- 
ton.' 

'  This  fellow  Machinery  proposes  to  make  things 
rather  uncomfortable,  I  imagine.' 

'  I  made  a  mistake,  didn't  I  ?  '  said  Alec,  with  a  thin 
smile.  '  I  should  have  dropped  him  in  the  river  when 
I  had  no  further  use  for  him.' 


212  THE    EXPLORER 

'  Wliat  are  you  going  to  do  ?  ' 

*  Nothing/ 

Dick  stared  at  him. 

41  Do  you  mean  to  say  you're  going  to  sit  still  and  let 
them  throw  mud  at  you  ?  ' 

« If  they  want  to/ 

'  But  look  here,  Alec,  what  the  deuce  is  the  meaning 
of  the  whole  thing  ? ' 

Alec  looked  at  him  quietly. 

'  If  I  had  intended  to  take  the  world  in  general  into 
my  confidence,  I  wouldn't  have  refused  to  see  the  inter- 
viewers who  came  to  me  this  evening/ 

*  We've  known  one  another  for  twenty  years,  Alec/ 
said  Dick. 

'  Then  you  may  be  quite  sure  that  if  I  refuse  to  dis- 
cuss this  matter  with  you,  it  must  be  for  excellent  rea- 
sons/ 

Dick  sprang  up  excitedly. 

'  But,  good  God !  you  must  explain.  You  can't  let 
a  charge  like  this  rest  on  you.  After  all,  it's  not  Tom, 
Dick,  or  Harry  that's  concerned;  it's  Lucy's  brother. 
You  must  speak/ 

'  I've  never  yet  discovered  that  I  must  do  anything 
that  I  don't  choose,'  answered  Alec. 

Dick  flung  himself  into  a  chair.  He  knew  that  when 
Alec  spoke  in  that  fashion  no  power  on  earth  could 
move  him.  The  whole  thing  was  entirely  unexpected,  and 
he  was  at  a  loss  for  words.  He  had  not  read  the  letter 
which  was  causing  all  the  bother,  and  knew  only  what 
Lady  Kelsey  had  told  him.  He  had  some  hope  that  on 
a  close  examination  various  things  would  appear  which 
must  explain  Alec's  attitude;  but  at  present  it  was  in- 
comprehensible. 


THE    EXPLORER  213 

'  Has  it  occurred  to  you  that  Lucy  is  very  much  in 
love  with  you,  Alec  ?  '  he  said  at  last. 

Alec  did  not  answer.    He  made  no  movement. 

'  What  will  you  do  if  this  loses  you  her  love  ?  ' 

'  I  have  counted  the  cost/  said  Alec,  coldly. 

He  got  up  from  his  chair,  and  Dick  saw  that  he  did 
not  wish  to  continue  the  discussion.  There  was  a 
moment  of  silence,  and  then  Lucy  came  in. 

'  I've  given  my  partner  away  to  a  wall-flower/  she 
said,  with  a  faint  smile.  '  I  felt  I  must  have  a  few 
words  alone  with  you.' 

*  I  will  make  myself  scarce/  said  Dick. 

They  waited  till  he  was  gone.  Then  Lucy  turned 
feverishly  to  Alec. 

'  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  you've  come.  I  wanted  so  much  to 
see  you/ 

'  I'm  afraid  people  have  been  telling  you  horrible 
things  about  me.' 

'  They  wanted  to  hide  it  from  me.' 

*  It  never  occurred  to  me  that  people  could  say  such 
shameful  things/  he  said  gravely. 

It  tormented  him  a  little  because  it  had  been  so  easy 
to  care  nothing  for  the  world's  adulation,  and  it  was 
so  hard  to  care  as  little  for  its  censure.  He  felt  very 
bitter. 

He  took  Lucy's  hand  and  made  her  sit  on  the  sofa 
by  his  side. 

'  There's  something  I  must  tell  you  at  once.' 

She  looked  at  him  without  answering. 

'  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  give  no  answer  to  the 
charges  that  are  brought  against  me.J 

Lucy  looked  up  quickly,  and  their  eyes  met. 

'  I  give  you  my  word  of  honour  that  I've  done  nothing 


214  THE    EXPLORER 

which  I  regret.  I  swear  to  you  that  what  I  did  was 
right  with  regard  to  George,  and  if  it  were  all  to  come 
again  I  would  do  exactly  as  I  did  before.' 

She  did  not  answer  for  a  long  time. 

'  I  never  doubted  you  for  a  single  moment/  she  said 
at  last. 

*  That  is  all  I  care  about/  He  looked  down,  and  there 
was  a  certain  shyness  in  his  voice  when  he  spoke  again. 
'  To-day  is  the  first  time  I've  wanted  to  be  assured  that 
I  was  trusted;  and  yet  I'm  ashamed  to  want  it.' 

'  Don't  be  too  hard  upon  yourself,'  she  said  gently. 
'  You're  so  afraid  of  letting  your  tenderness  appear.' 

He  seemed  to  give  earnest  thought  to  what  she  said. 
Lucy  had  never  seen  him  more  grave. 

'  The  only  way  to  be  strong  is  never  to  surrender  to 
one's  weakness.  Strength  is  merely  a  habit.  I  want 
you  to  be  strong,  too.  I  want  you  never  to  doubt  me 
whatever  you  hear  said/ 

'  I  gave  my  brother  into  your  hands,  and  I  said  that 
if  he  died  a  brave  man's  death,  I  could  ask  for  no  more. 
You  told  me  that  such  a  death  was  his/ 

*  I  thought  of  you  always,  and  everything  I  did  was 
for  your  sake.    Every  single  act  of  mine  during  these 
four  years  in  Africa  has  been  done  because  I  loved  you/ 

It  was  the  first  time  since  his  return  that  he  had 
spoken  of  love.  Lucy  bent  her  head  still  lower. 

*  Do  you  remember,  I  asked  you  a  question  before 
I  went  away?    You  refused  to  marry  me  then,  but  you 
told  me  that  if  I  asked  again  when  I  came  back,  the 
answer  might  be  different/ 

'  Yes/ 

'The  hope  bore  me  up  in  every  difficulty  and  in 
every  danger.  And  when  I  came  back  I  dared  not  ask 


THE    EXPLORER  215 

you  at  once;  I  was  so  afraid  that  you  would  refuse 
once  more.  And  I  didn't  wish  you  to  think  yourself 
bound  by  a  vague  promise.  But  each  day  I  loved  you 
more  passionately." 

e  I  knew,  and  I  was  very  grateful  for  your  love.' 

'  Yesterday  I  could  have  offered  you  a  certain  name. 
I  only  cared  for  the  honours  they  gave  me  so  that  I 
might  put  them  at  your  feet.  But  what  can  I  offer  you 
now?' 

'  You  must  love  me  always,  Alec,  for  now  I  have  only 
you/ 

'  Are  you  sure  that  you  will  never  believe  that  I  am 
guilty  of  this  crime  ?  ' 

'  Why  can  you  say  nothing  in  self-defence  ?  ' 

'  That  I  can't  tell  you  either.' 

There  was  a  silence  between  them.  At  last  Alec 
spoke  again. 

'  But  perhaps  it  will  be  easier  for  you  to  believe  in 
me  than  for  others,  because  you  know  that  I  loved  you, 
and  I  can't  have  done  the  odious  thing  of  which  that 
man  accuses  me.' 

'  I  will  never  believe  it.  I  do  not  know  what  your 
reasons  are  for  keeping  all  this  to  yourself,  but  I  trust 
you,  and  I  know  that  they  are  good.  If  you  cannot 
speak,  it  is  because  greater  interests  hold  you  back.  I 
love  you,  Alec,  with  all  my  heart,  and  if  you  wish  me  to 
be  your  wife  I  shall  be  proud  and  honoured.' 

He  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  as  he  kissed  her,  she 
wept  tears  of  happiness.  She  did  not  want  to  think. 
She  wanted  merely  to  surrender  herself  to  his  strength. 


XVI 

LADY  KELSEX'S  devout  hope  that  her  party  would  finish 
without  unpleasantness  was  singularly  frustrated.  Rob- 
ert Boulger  was  irritated  beyond  endurance  by  the 
things  Lucy  had  said  to  him ;  and  Lucy  besides,  as  if  to 
drive  him  to  distraction,  had  committed  a  peculiar  in- 
discretion. In  her  determination  to  show  the  world 
in  general,  represented  then  by  the  two  hundred  people 
who  were  enjoying  Lady  Kelsey's  hospitality,  that  she, 
the  person  most  interested,  did  not  for  an  instant  be- 
lieve what  was  said  about  Alec,  Lucy  had  insisted  on 
dancing  with  him.  Alec  thought  it  unwise  thus  to  out- 
rage conventional  opinion,  but  he  could  not  withstand 
her  fiery  spirit.  Dick  and  Mrs.  Crowley  were  partners 
at  the  time,  and  the  disapproval  which  Lucy  saw  in 
their  eyes,  made  her  more  vehement  in  her  defiance. 
She  had  caught  Bobbie's  glance,  too,  and  she  flung 
back  her  head  a  little  as  she  saw  his  livid  anger. 

Little  by  little  Lady  Kelsey's  guests  bade  her  fare- 
well, and  at  three  o'clock  few  were  left.  Lucy  had 
asked  Alec  to  remain  till  the  end,  and  he  and  Dick  had 
taken  refuge  in  the  smoking-room.  Presently  Boulger 
came  in  with  two  men,  named  Mallins  and  Carbery, 
whom  Alec  knew  slightly.  He  glanced  at  Alec,  and  went 
up  to  the  table  on  which  were  cigarettes  and  various 
things  to  drink.  His  companions  had  no  idea  that  he 
was  bent  upon  an  explanation  and  had  asked  them  of 
set  purpose  to  come  into  that  room. 

216 


THE    EXPLORER  217 

*  May  we  smoke  here,  Bobbie  ? '  asked  one  of  them, 
a  little  embarrassed  at  seeing  Alec,  but  anxious  to  carry 
things  off  pleasantly. 

'  Certainly.  Dick  insisted  that  this  room  should  be 
particularly  reserved  for  that  purpose.' 

'  Lady  Kelsey  is  the  most  admirable  of  all  hostesses,' 
said  Dick  lightly. 

He  took  out  his  case  and  offered  a  cigarette  to  Alec. 
Alec  took  it. 

'  Give  me  a  match,  Bobbikins,  there's  a  good  boy,' 
he  said  carelessly. 

Boulger,  with  his  back  turned  to  Alec,  took  no  no- 
tice of  the  request.  He  poured  himself  out  some  whisky, 
and  raising  the  glass,  deliberately  examined  how  much 
there  was  in  it.  Alec  smiled  faintly. 

"  Bobbie,  throw  me  over  the  matches,'  he  repeated. 

At  that  moment  Lady  Kelsey's  butler  came  into  the 
room  with  a  salver,  upon  which  he  put  the  dirty 
glasses.  Bobbie,  his  back  still  turned,  looked  up  at  the 
servant. 

'  Miller/ 

'  Yes,  sir.' 

'  Mr.  MacKenzie  is  asking  for  something/ 

*  Yes,  sir.' 

'  You  might  give  me  a  match,  will  you  ?  '  said  Alec. 

'  Yes,  sir.' 

The  butler  put  the  matches  on  his  salver  and  took 
them  over  to  Alec,  who  lit  his  cigarette. 

'  Thank  you/ 

No  one  spoke  till  the  butler  left  the  room.  Alec  oc- 
cupied himself  idly  in  making  smoke  rings,  and  he 
watched  them  rise  into  the  air.  When  they  »vere  alouo 
he  turned  slowly  to  Boulger. 


218  THE    EXPLORER 

'  I  perceive  that  during  my  absence  you  have  not 
added  good  manners  to  your  other  accomplishments,' 
he  said. 

Boulger  wheeled  round  and  faced  him. 

"If  you  want  things  you  can  ask  servants  for 
them.' 

*  Don't  be  foolish,'  smiled  Alec,  good-humouredly. 

Alec's  contemptuous  manner  robbed  Boulger  of  his 
remaining  self-control.  He  strode  angrily  to  Alec. 

'  If  you  talk  to  me  like  that  I'll  knock  you  down/ 

Alec  was  lying  stretched  out  on  the  sofa,  and  did  not 
stir.  He  seemed  completely  unconcerned. 

'  You  could  hardly  do  that  when  I'm  already  lying  on 
my  back/  he  murmured. 

Boulger  clenched  his  fists.  He  gasped  in  the  fury  of 
his  anger. 

'  Look  here,  MacKenzie,  I'm  not  going  to  let  you 
play  the  fool  with  me.  I  want  to  know  what  answer 
you  have  to  make  to  Macinnery's  accusation.' 

'  Might  I  suggest  that  only  Miss  Allerton  has  the 
least  right  to  receive  answers  to  her  questions  ?  And  she 
hasn't  questioned  me.' 

'  I've  given  up  trying  to  understand  her  attitude.  If 
I  were  she,  it  would  make  me  sick  with  horror  to  look 
at  you.  But  after  all  I  have  the  right  to  know  some- 
thing. George  Allerton  was  my  cousin.' 

Alec  rose  slowly  from  the  sofa.  He  faced  Boulger 
with  an  indifference  which  was  peculiarly  irritating. 

'  That  is  a  fact  upon  which  he  did  not  vastly  pride 
himself.' 

'  Since  this  morning  you've  rested  under  a  perfectly 
direct  charge  of  causing  his  death  in  a  dastardly  man- 
ner. And  you've  said  nothing  in  self-defence.' 


THE    EXPLORER  219 

'  I  haven't/ 

'  You've  been  given  an  opportunity  of  explaining 
yourself,  and  you  haven't  taken  it/ 

t  Quite  true/ 

'  What  are  you  going  to  do  ? ' 

Alec  had  already  been  asked  that  question  by  Dick, 
and  he  returned  the  same  answer. 

<  Nothing/ 

Bobbie  looked  at  him  for  an  instant.  Then  he 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'•  In  that  case  I  can  draw  only  one  conclusion.  There 
appears  to  be  no  means  of  bringing  you  to  justice,  but 
at  least  I  can  tell  you  what  an  indescribable  blackguard 
I  think  you/ 

*  All  is  over  between  us,'  smiled  Alec,  faintly  amused 
at  the  young  man's  violence.    '  And  shall  I  return  your 
letters  and  your  photographs  ?  ' 

*  I  assure  you  that  I'm  not  joking,'  answered  Bobbie 
grimly. 

'  I  have  observed  that  you  joke  with  difficulty.  It's 
singular  that  though  I'm  Scotch  and  you  are  English,  I 
should  be  able  to  see  how  ridiculous  you  are,  while 
you're  quite  blind  to  your  own  absurdity/ 

1  Come,  Alec,  remember  he's  only  a  boy/  remon- 
strated Dick,  who  till  now  had  been  unable  to  inter- 
pose. 

Boulger  turned  upon  him  angrily. 

'  I'm  perfectly  able  to  look  after  myself,  Dick,  and 
I'll  thank  you  not  to  interfere/  He  looked  again  at 
Alec :  '  If  Lucy's  so  indifferent  to  her  brother's  death 
that  she's  willing  to  keep  up  with  you,  that's  her  own 
affair/ 

Dick  interrupted  once  more. 


220  THE    EXPLORER 

'  For  heaven's  sake  don't  make  a  scene,  Bobbie.  How 
can  you  make  such  a  fool  of  yourself  ? ' 

'  Leave  me  alone,  confound  you ! ' 

'  Do  you  think  this  is  quite  the  best  place  for  an  alter- 
cation ?  '  asked  Alec  quietly.  '  Wouldn't  you  gain  more 
notoriety  if  you  attacked  me  in  my  club  or  at  Church 
Parade  on  Sunday?' 

'If s  mere  shameless  impudence  that  you  should 
come  here  to-night,'  cried  Bobbie,  his  voice  hoarse  with 
passion.  '  You're  using  these  wretched  women  as  a 
shield,  because  you  know  that  as  long  as  Lucy  sticks  to 
you,  there  are  people  who  won't  believe  the  story.' 

'  I  came  for  the  same  reason  as  yourself,  dear  boy. 
Because  I  was  invited.' 

'  You  acknowledge  that  you  have  no  defence/ 

*  Pardon    me,    I    acknowledge    nothing    and    deny 
nothing/ 

'  That  won't  do  for  me/  said  Botilger.  '  I  want  the 
truth,  and  I'm  going  to  get  it.  I've  got  a  right  to 
know/ 

*  Don't  make  such  an  ass  of  yourself,'  cried  Alec, 
shortly. 

'  By  God,  I'll  make  you  answer/ 

He  went  up  to  Alec  furiously,  as  if  he  meant  to  seize 
him  by  the  throat,  but  Alec,  with  a  twist  of  the  arm, 
hurled  him  backwards. 

'  I  could  break  your  back,  you  silly  boy,'  he  cried,  in 
a  voice  low  with  anger. 

With  a  cry  of  rage  Bobbie  was  about  to  spring  at 
Alec  when  Dick  got  in  his  way. 

'  For  God's  sake,  let  us  have  no  scenes  here.  And 
you'll  only  get  the  worst  of  it,  Bobbie.  Alec  could  just 
crumple  you  up/  He  turned  to  the  two  men  who  stood 


THE    EXPLORER  221 

behind,  startled  by  the  unexpectedness  of  the  quarrel. 
'  Take  him  away,  Mallins,  there's  a  good  chap/ 

'  Let  me  alone,  you  fool ! '  cried  Bobbie. 

'  Come  along,  old  man/  said  Mallins,  recovering 
himself. 

When  his  two  friends  had  got  Bobbie  out  of  the 
room,  Dick  heaved  a  great  sigh  of  relief. 

'  Poor  Lady  Kelsey ! '  he  laughed,  beginning  to  see 
the  humour  of  the  situation.  *  To-morrow  half  Lon- 
don will  be  saying  that  you  and  Bobbie  had  a  stand-up 
fight  in  her  drawing-room/ 

Alec  looked  at  him  angrily.  He  was  not  a  man  of 
easy  temper,  and  the  effort  he  had  put  upon  himself 
was  beginning  to  tell. 

'  You  really  needn't  have  gone  out  of  your  way  to  in- 
furiate the  boy/  said  Dick. 
,     Alec  wheeled  round  wrathfully. 

'  The  damned  cubs/  he  said.  '  I  should  like  to  break 
their  silly  necks/ 

'You  have  an  amiable  character,  Alec/  retorted 
Dick. 

Alec  began  to  walk  up  and  down  excitedly.  Dick  had 
never  seen  him  before  in  such  a  state. 

*  The  position  is  growing  confoundedly  awkward/  he 
said  drily. 

Then  Alec  burst  out. 

'They  lick  my  boots  till  I  loathe  them,  and  then 
they  turn  against  me  like  a  pack  of  curs.  Oh,  I  despise 
them,  these  silly  boys  who  stay  at  home  wallowing  in 
their  ease,  while  men  work — work  and  conquer.  Thank 
God,  I've  done  with  them  now.  They  think  one  can 
fight  one's  way  through  Africa  as  easily  as  walk  down 
Piccadilly.  They  think  one  goes  through  hardship  and 


222  THE   EXPLORER 

danger,  illness  and  starvation,  to  be  the  lion  of  a  din- 
ner-party in  Mayfair.' 

'  I  think  you're  unfair  to  them,'  answered  Dick. 
'  Can't  you  see  the  other  side  of  the  picture  ?  You're 
accused  of  a  particularly  low  act  of  treachery.  Your 
friends  were  hoping  that  you'd  be  able  to  prove  at  once 
that  it  was  an  abominable  lie,  and  for  some  reason 
which  no  one  can  make  out,  you  refuse  even  to  notice  it.' 

'  My  whole  life  is  proof  that  it's  a  lie.' 

'  Don't  you  think  you'd  better  change  your  mind  and 
make  a  statement  that  can  be  sent  to  the  papers  ? ' 

'  No,  damn  you ! ' 

Dick's  good  nature  was  imperturbable,  and  he  was 
not  in  the  least  annoyed  by  Alec's  vivacity. 

{  My  dear  chap,  do  calm  down,'  he  laughed. 

Alec  started  at  the  sound  of  his  mocking.  He  seemed 
again  to  become  aware  of  himself.  It  was  interesting 
to  observe  the  quite  visible  effort  he  made  to  regain  his 
self-control.  In  a  moment  he  had  mastered  his  excite- 
ment, and  he  turned  to  Dick  with  studied  nonchalance. 

'  Do  you  think  I  look  wildly  excited  ? '  he  asked 
blandly. 

Dick  smiled. 

'  If  you  will  permit  me  to  say  so,  I  think  butter 
would  have  no  difficulty  in  melting  in  your  mouth,'  he 
replied. 

'  I  never  felt  cooler  in  my  life.' 

'  Lucky  man,  with  the  thermometer  at  a  hundred 
and  two ! ' 

Alec  laughed  and  put  his  arm  through  Dick's. 

'  Perhaps  we  had  better  go  home,'  he  said. 

'Your  common  sense  is  no  less  remarkable  than 
your  personal  appearance,'  answered  Dick  gravely. 


THE    EXPLORER  223 

They  had  already  bidden  their  hostess  good-night, 
and  getting  their  things,  they  set  out  to  walk  their  dif- 
ferent ways.  When  Dick  got  home  he  did  not  go  to 
bed.  He  sat  in  an  armchair,  considering  the  events  of 
the  evening,  and  trying  to  find  some  way  out  of  the 
complexity  of  his  thoughts.  He  was  surprised  when 
the  morning  sun  sent  a  bright  ray  of  light  into  his 


But  Lady  Kelsey  was  not  yet  at  the  end  of  her 
troubles.  Bobbie,  having  got  rid  of  his  friends,  went 
to  her  and  asked  if  she  would  not  come  downstairs  and 
drink  a  cup  of  soup.  The  poor  lady,  quite  exhausted, 
thought  him  very  considerate.  One  or  two  persons,  with 
their  coats  on,  were  still  in  the  room,  waiting  for  their 
womenkind ;  and  in  the  hall  there  was  a  little  group  of 
belated  guests  huddled  around  the  door,  while  cabs  and 
carriages  were  being  brought  up  for  them.  There  was 
about  everyone  the  lassitude  which  follows  the  gaiety  of 
a  dance.  The  waiters  behind  the  tables  were  heavy- 
eyed.  Lucy  was  bidding  good-bye  to  one  or  two  more 
intimate  friends. 

Lady  Kelsey  drank  the  hot  soup  with  relief. 

'  My  poor  legs  are  dropping/  she  said.  '  I'm  sure 
I'm  far  too  tired  to  go  to  sleep/ 

'  I  want  to  talk  to  Lucy  before  I  go/  said  Bobbie, 
abruptly. 

'  To-night  ?  '  she  asked  in  dismay. 

'  Yes,  I  want  you  to  send  her  a  message  that  you  wish 
to  see  her  in  your  boudoir/ 

'  Why,  what  on  earth's  the  matter?  ' 

'  She  can't  go  on  in  this  way.  It's  perfectly  mon- 
strous. Something  must  be  done  immediately/ 


224  THE    EXPLORER 

Lady  Kelsey  understood  what  he  was  driving  at.  She 
knew  how  great  was  his  love,  and  she,  too,  had  seen  his 
anger  when  Lucy  danced  with  Alec  MacKenzie.  But 
the  whole  affair  perplexed  her  utterly.  She  put  down 
her  cup. 

*  Can't  you  wait  till  to-morrow  ?  '  she  asked  nervously. 
1 1  feel  it  ought  to  be  settled  at  once/ 

'  I  think  you're  dreadfully  foolish.  You  know  how 
Lucy  resents  any  interference  with  her  actions.' 

'  I  shall  bear  her  resentment  with  fortitude/  he  said, 
with  great  bitterness. 

Lady  Kelsey  looked  at  him  helplessly. 

'  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  '  she  asked. 

'  I  want  you  to  be  present  at  our  interview/ 

He  turned  to  a  servant  and  told  him  to  ask  Miss  Al- 
lerton  from  Lady  Kelsey  if  she  would  kindly  come  to 
the  boudoir.  He  gave  his  arm  to  Lady  Kelsey,  and 
they  went  upstairs.  In  a  moment  Lucy  appeared. 

'  Did  you  send  for  me,  my  aunt?  I'm  told  you  want 
to  speak  to  me  here/ 

'  I  asked  Aunt  Alice  to  beg  you  to  come  here/  said 
Boulger.  '  I  was  afraid  you  wouldn't  if  /  asked  you/ 

Lucy  looked  at  him  with  raised  eyebrows  and  answered 
lightly. 

'  What  nonsense !  I'm  always  delighted  to  enjoy 
your  society/ 

*  I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  about  something,  and  I 
thought  Aunt  Alice  should  be  present/ 

Lucy  gave  him  a  quick  glance.    He  met  it  coolly. 
'  Is  it  so  important  that  it  can't  wait  till  to-morrow  ?  ' 
'  I  venture  to  think  if  s  very  important.    And  by  now 
everybody  has  gone/ 

'  I'm  all  attention/  she  smiled. 


THE    EXPLORER  225 

Boulger  hesitated  for  a  moment,  then  braced  himself 
for  the  ordeal. 

*  I've  told  you  often,  Lucy,  that  I've  been  desperately 
in  love  with  you  for  more  years  than  I  can  remember/ 
he  said,  flushing  with  nervousness. 

'  Surely  you've  not  snatched  me  from  my  last  chance 
of  a  cup  of  soup  in  order  to  make  me  a  proposal  of  mar- 
riage?' 

'  I'm  perfectly  serious,  Lucy.' 

'  I  assure  you  it  doesn't  suit  you  at  all/  she  smiled. 

'  The  other  day  I  asked  you  again  to  marry  me,  just 
before  Alec  MacKenzie  came  back.' 

A  softer  light  came  into  Lucy's  eyes,  and  the  banter- 
ing tones  fell  away  from  her  voice. 

'  It  was  very  charming  of  you/  she  said  gravely. 
'  You  mustn't  think  that  because  I  laugh  at  you  a 
little,  I'm  not  very  grateful  for  your  affection/ 

*  You  know  how  long  he's  cared  for  you,  Lucy/  said 
Lady  Kelsey. 

Lucy  went  up  to  him  and  very  tenderly  placed  her 
hand  on  his  arm. 

'  I'm  immensely  touched  by  your  great  devotion, 
Bobbie,  and  I  know  that  I've  done  nothing  to  deserve 
it.  I'm  very  sorry  that  I  can't  give  you  anything  in 
return.  One's  not  mistress  of  one's  love.  I  can  only 
hope — with  all  my  heart — that  you'll  fall  in  love  with 
some  girl  who  cares  for  you.  You  don't  know  how 
much  I  want  you  to  be  happy.' 

Boulger  drew  back  coldly.  He  would  not  allow  him- 
self to  be  touched,  though  the  sweetness  of  her  voice 
tore  his  heart-strings. 

'  Just  now  it's  not  my  happiness  that's  concerned/  he 
said.  '  When  Alec  MacKenzie  came  back  I  thought  I 

15 


226  THE   EXPLORER 

saw  why  nothing  that  I  could  do,  had  the  power  to 
change  the  utter  indifference  with  which  you  looked 
at  me/ 

He  paused  a  moment  and  coughed  uneasily. 

'  I  don't  know  why  you  think  it  necessary  to  say  all 
this/  said  Lucy,  in  a  low  voice. 

'  I  tried  to  resign  myself.  You've  always  worshipped 
strength,  and  I  understood  that  you  must  think  Alec 
MacKenzie  very  wonderful.  I  had  little  enough  to 
offer  you  when  I  compared  myself  with  him.  I  hoped 
against  hope  that  you  weren't  in  love  with  him.' 

'Well?' 

'  Except  for  that  letter  in  this  morning's  paper  I 
should  never  have  dared  to  say  anything  to  you  again. 
But  that  changes  everything.' 

He  paused  once  more.  Though  he  tried  to  seem  so 
calm,  his  heart  was  beating  furiously.  He  really  loved 
Lucy  with  all  his  soul,  and  he  was  doing  what  seemed 
to  him  a  plain  duty. 

'  I  ask  you  again  if  you'll  be  my  wife.' 

'  I  don't  understand  what  you  mean,'  she  said 
slowly. 

'  You  can't  marry  Alec  MacKenzie  now.' 

Lucy  flung  back  her  head.    She  grew  very  pale. 

'  You  have  no  right  to  talk  to  me  like  this,'  she  said. 
'  You  really  presume  too  much  upon  my  good  nature.' 

'  I  think  I  have  some  right.  I'm  the  only  man  who's 
related  to  you  at  all,  and  I  love  you.' 

They  saw  that  Lady  Kelsey  wanted  to  speak,  and 
Lucy  turned  round  to  her. 

'  I  think  you  should  listen  to  him,  Lucy.  I'm 
growing  old,  and  soon  you'll  be  quite  alone  in  the 
world.' 


THE    EXPLORER  227 

The  simple  kindness  of  her  words  calmed  the  pas- 
sions of  the  other  two,  and  brought  down  the  conver- 
sation to  a  gentler  level. 

'  I'll  try  my  best  to  make  you  a  good  husband,  Lucy.' 
said  Bobbie,  very  earnestly.  '  I  don't  ask  you  to  care 
for  me ;  I  only  want  to  serve  you/ 

*  I  can  only  repeat  that  I'm  very  grateful  to  you.  But 
I  can't  marry  you,  and  I  shall  never  marry  you.' 

Boulger's  face  grew  darker,  and  he  was  silent. 

'  Are  you  going  to  continue  to  know  Alec  MacKen- 
zie  ?  '  he  asked  at  length. 

'  You  have  no  right  to  ask  me  such  a  question.' 

'  If  you'll  take  the  advice  of  any  unprejudiced  per- 
son about  that  letter,  you'll  find  that  he'll  say  the  same 
as  I.  There  can  be  no  shadow  of  a  doubt  that  the  man 
is  guilty  of  a  monstrous  crime.' 

'  I  don't  care  what  the  evidence  is,'  said  Lucy.  '  I 
know  he  can't  have  done  a  shameful  thing.' 

'But,  good  God,  have  you  forgotten  that  if  a  your 
own  brother  whom  he  killed!'  he  cried  hotly.  'The 
whole  country  is  up  in  arms  against  him,  and  you  are 
quite  indifferent.' 

1  Oh,  Bobbie,  how  can  you  say  that  ? '  she  wailed, 
suddenly  moved  to  the  very  depths  of  her  being.  '  How 
can  you  be  so  cruel  ? ' 

He  went  up  to  her,  and  they  stood  face  to  face.  He 
spoke  very  quickly,  flinging  the  words  at  her  with  in- 
dignant anger. 

'  If  you  cared  for  George  at  all,  you  must  wish  to 
punish  the  man  who  caused  his  death.  At  least  you 
can't  continue  to  be  his ' — he  stopped  as  he  saw  the 
agony  in  her  eyes,  and  changed  his  words — '  his  greatest 
friend.  It  waa  vour  doing  that  George  went  to  Africa 


228  THE    EXPLORER 

at  all.  The  least  thing  you  can  do  is  to  take  some  in- 
terest in  his  death/ 

She  put  up  her  hands  to  her  eyes,  as  though  to  drive 
away  the  sight  of  hateful  things. 

'  Oh,  why  do  you  torment  me  ? '  she  cried  pitifully. 
'  I  tell  you  he  isn't  guilty.' 

'  He's  refused  to  answer  anyone.  I  tried  to  get 
something  out  of  him,  but  I  couldn't,  and  I  lost  my 
temper.  He  might  give  you  the  truth  if  you  asked  him 
pointblank.' 

'  I  couldn't  do  that.' 

<  Why  not?' 

*  It's    very   strange    that   he    should    insist    on   this 
silence,'  said  Lady  Kelsey.     '  One  would  have  thought 
if  he  had  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,  he'd  have  nothing 
to  hide.' 

'  Do  you  believe  that  story,  too  ?  '  asked  Lucy. 

( I  don't  know  what  to  believe.  It's  so  extraordinary. 
Dick  says  he  knows  nothing  about  it.  If  the  man's  in- 
nocent, why  on  earth  doesn't  he  speak  ?  ' 

*  He  knows  I  trust  him,'  said  Lucy.    '  He  knows  I'm 
proud  to  trust  him.     Do  you  think  I  would  cause  him 
the  great  pain  of  asking  him  questions  ?  ' 

'  Are  you  afraid  he  couldn't  answer  them  ? '  asked 
Boulger. 

'  No,  no,  no.' 

'  Well,  just  try.  After  all  you  owe  as  much  as  that 
to  the  memory  of  George.  Try/ 

'  But  don't  you  see  that  if  he  won't  say  anything,  it's 
because  there  are  good  reasons,'  she  cried  distractedly. 
'  How  do  I  know  what  interests  are  concerned  in  the 
matter,  beside  which  the  death  of  George  is  insignifi- 
cant . 


THE    EXPLORER  229 

'  Do  you  look  upon  it  so  lightly  as  that  ?  ' 

She  turned  away,  bursting  into  tears.     She  was  like 

a  hunted  beast.     There  seemed  no  escape   from  the 

taunting  questions. 

*  I  must  show  my  faith  in  him/  she  sobbed. 

'  I  think  you're  a  little  nervous  to  go  into  the  matter 
too  closely.' 

'  I  believe  in  him  implicitly.  I  believe  in  him  with 
all  the  strength  I've  got.' 

'  Then  surely  it  can  make  no  difference  if  you  ask 
him.  There  can  be  no  reason  for  him  not  to  trust  you.' 

'  Oh,  why  don't  you  leave  me  alone  ?  '  she  wailed. 

'  I  do  think  it's  very  unreasonable,  Lucy,'  said  Lady 
Kelsey.  '  He  knows  you're  his  friend.  He  can  surely 
count  on  your  discretion.' 

*  If  he  refused  to  answer  me  it  would  mean  nothing. 
You  don't  know  him  as  I  do.    He's  a  man  of  extraor- 
dinary character.    If  he  has  made  up  his  mind  that  for 
certain  reasons  which  we  don't  know,  he  must  preserve 
an   entire   silence,   nothing   whatever  will   move  him. 
Why  should  he  answer?     I  believe  in  him  absolutely. 
I  think  he's  the  greatest  and  most  honourable  man  I've 
ever  known.     I  should  feel  happy  and  grateful  to  be 
allowed  to  wait  on  him.' 

'  Lucy,  what  do  you  mean  ? '  cried  Lady  Kelsey. 

But  now  Lucy  had  cast  off  all  reserve.  She  did  not 
mind  what  she  said. 

'  I  mean  that  I  care  more  for  his  little  finger  than 
for  the  whole  world.  I  love  him  with  all  my  heart. 
And  that's  why  he  can't  be  guilty  of  this  horrible  thing, 
because  I've  loved  him  for  years,  and  he's  known  it. 
And  he  loves  me,  and  he's  loved  me  always.' 

She  sank  exhausted  into  a  chair,  gasping  for  breath. 


230  THE    EXPLORER 

Boulger  looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  and  he  turned  sick 
with  anguish.  What  he  had  only  suspected  before,  he 
knew  now  from  her  own  lips;  and  it  was  harder  than 
ever  to  bear.  Now  everything  seemed  ended. 

'  Are  you  going  to  marry  him  ?  '  he  asked. 

'  Yes/ 

'  In  spite  of  everything  ? ' 

'  In  spite  of  everything,'  she  answered  defiantly. 

Bobbie  choked  down  the  groan  of  despairing  rage 
that  forced  its  way  to  his  throat.  He  watched  her  for 
a  moment. 

'  Good  God/  he  said  at  last,  c  what  is  there  in  the 
man  that  he  should  have  made  you  forget  love  and 
honour  and  common  decency ! ' 

Lucy  made  no  reply.  But  she  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands  and  wept.  She  rocked  to  and  fro  with  the  vio- 
lence of  her  tears. 

Without  another  word  Bobbie  turned  round  and  left 
them.  Lady  Kelsey  heard  the  door  slam  as  he  went 
out  into  the  silent  street. 


XVII 

NEXT  day  Alec  was  called  up  to  Lancashire. 

When  he  went  out  in  the  morning,  he  saw  on  the  pla- 
cards of  the  evening  papers  that  there  had  been  a  col- 
liery explosion,  but,  his  mind  absorbed  in  other  things, 
he  paid  no  attention  to  it ;  and  it  was  with  a  shock  that, 
on  opening  a  telegram  which  waited  for  him  at  his  club, 
he  found  that  the  accident  had  occurred  in  his  own 
mine.  Thirty  miners  were  entombed,  and  it  was  feared 
that  they  could  not  be  saved.  Immediately  all  thought 
of  his  own  concerns  fled  from  him,  and  sending  for  a 
time-table,  he  looked  out  a  train.  He  found  one  that 
he  could  just  catch.  He  took  a  couple  of  telegram 
forms  in  the  cab  with  him,  and  on  one  scribbled  instruc- 
tions to  his  servant  to  follow  him  at  once  with  clothes; 
the  other  he  wrote  to  Lucy. 

He  just  caught  the  train  and  in  the  afternoon  found 
himself  at  the  mouth  of  the  pit.  There  was  a  little 
crowd  around  it  of  weeping  women.  All  efforts  to 
save  the  wretched  men  appeared  to  be  useless.  Many 
had  been  injured,  and  the  manager's  house  had  been 
converted  into  a  hospital.  Alec  found  everyone  stunned 
by  the  disaster,  and  the  attempts  at  rescue  had  been 
carried  on  feebly.  He  set  himself  to  work  at  once.  He 
put  heart  into  the  despairing  women.  He  brought  up 
everyone  who  could  be  of  the  least  use  and  inspired 
them  with  his  own  resourceful  courage.  The  day  was 
drawing  to  a  close,  but  no  time  could  be  lost;  and  all 
231 


232  THE    EXPLORER 

night  they  toiled.  Alec,  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  laboured 
as  heartily  as  the  strongest  miner;  he  seemed  to  want 
neither  rest  nor  food.  With  clenched  teeth,  silently,  he 
fought  a  battle  with  death,  and  the  prize  was  thirty 
living  men.  In  the  morning  he  refreshed  himself  with 
a  bath,  paid  a  hurried  visit  to  the  injured,  and  re- 
turned to  the  pit  mouth. 

He  had  no  time  to  think  of  other  things.  He  did  not 
know  that  on  this  very  morning  another  letter  appeared 
in  the  Daily  Mail,  filling  in  the  details  of  the  case 
against  him,  adding  one  damning  piece  of  evidence  to 
another;  he  did  not  know  that  the  papers,  amazed  and 
indignant  at  his  silence,  now  were  unanimous  in  their 
condemnation.  It  was  made  a  party  matter,  and  the 
radical  organs  used  the  scandal  as  a  stick  to  beat  the 
dying  donkey  which  was  then  in  power.  A  question 
was  put  down  to  be  asked  in  the  House. 

Alec  waged  his  good  fight  and  neither  knew  nor  cared 
that  the  bubble  of  his  glory  was  pricked.  Still  the 
miners  lived  in  the  tomb,  and  forty-eight  hours  passed. 
Hope  was  failing  in  the  stout  hearts  of  those  who 
laboured  by  his  side,  but  Alec  urged  them  to  greater 
endeavours.  And  now  nothing  was  needed  but  a  dogged 
perseverance.  His  tremendous  strength  stood  him  in 
good  stead,  and  he  was  able  to  work  twenty  hours 
on  end.  He  did  not  spare  himself.  And  he  seemed 
able  to  call  prodigies  of  endurance  out  of  those  who 
helped  him;  with  that  example  it  seemed  easier  to 
endure.  And  still  they  toiled  unrestingly.  But  their 
hope  was  growing  faint.  Behind  that  wall  thirty 
men  were  lying,  hopeless,  starving;  and  some  perhaps 
were  dead  already.  And  it  was  terrible  to  think  of  the 
horrors  that  assailed  them,  the  horror  of  rising  water,  the 


THE    EXPLORER  233 

horror  of  darkness,  and  the  gnawing  pangs  of  hunger. 
Among  them  was  a  boy  of  fourteen.  Alec  had  spoken 
to  him  by  chance  on  one  of  the  days  he  had  recently 
spent  there,  and  had  been  amused  by  his  cheeky  bright- 
ness. He  was  a  blue-eyed  lad  with  a  laughing  mouth. 
It  was  pitiful  to  think  that  all  that  joy  of  life  should 
have  been  crushed  by  a  blind,  stupid  disaster.  His 
father  had  been  killed,  and  his  body,  charred  and  dis- 
figured, lay  in  the  mortuary.  The  boy  was  imprisoned 
with  his  brother,  a  man  older  than  himself,  married,  and 
the  father  of  children.  With  angry  vehemence  Alec  set 
to  again.  He  would  not  be  beaten. 

At  last  they  heard  sounds,  faint  and  muffled,  but 
unmistakable.  At  all  events  some  of  them  were  still 
alive.  The  rescuers  increased  their  efforts.  Now  it 
was  only  a  question  of  hours.  They  were  so  near  that 
it  renewed  their  strength;  all  fatigue  fell  from  them; 
it  needed  but  a  little  courage. 

At  last! 

With  a  groan  of  relief  which  tried  hard  to  be  a 
cheer,  the  last  barrier  was  broken,  and  the  prisoners 
were  saved.  They  were  brought  out  one  by  one,  hag- 
gard, with  sunken  eyes  that  blinked  feebly  in  the  sun- 
light; their  faces  were  pale  with  the  shadow  of  death, 
and  they  could  not  stand  on  their  feet.  The  bright- 
eyed  boy  was  carried  out  in  Alec's  strong  arms,  and  he 
tried  to  make  a  jest  of  it;  but  the  smile  on  his  lips 
was  changed  into  a  sob,  and  hiding  his  face  in  Alec's 
breast,  he  cried  from  utter  weakness.  They  carried 
out  his  brother,  and  he  was  dead.  His  wife  was  wait- 
ing for  him  at  the  pit's  mouth,  with  her  children  by 
her  side. 

This  commonplace  incident,  briefly  referred  to  in  the 


234  THE    EXPLORER 

corner  of  a  morning  paper,  made  his  own  affairs 
strangely  unimportant  to  Alec.  Face  to  face  with  the 
bitter  tragedy  of  women  left  husbandless,  of  orphaned 
children,  and  the  grim  horror  of  men  cut  off  in  the 
prime  of  their  manhood,  the  agitation  which  his  own 
conduct  was  causing  fell  out  of  view.  He  was  harassed 
and  anxious.  Much  business  had  to  be  done  which 
would  allow  of  no  delay.  It  was  necessary  to  make 
every  effort  to  get  the  mine  once  more  into  working 
order;  it  was  necessary  to  provide  for  those  who  had  lost 
the  breadwinner.  Alec  found  himself  assailed  on  all 
sides  with  matters  of  urgent  importance,  and  he  had  not 
a  moment  to  devote  to  his  own  affairs.  When  at  length 
it  was  possible  for  him  to  consider  himself  at  all,  he 
felt  that  the  accident  had  raised  him  out  of  the  narrow 
pettiness  which  threatened  to  submerge  his  soul;  he 
was  at  close  quarters  with  malignant  fate,  and  he  had 
waged  a  desperate  battle  with  the  cruel  blindness  of 
chance.  He  could  only  feel  an  utter  scorn  for  the  peo- 
ple who  bespattered  him  with  base  charges.  For,  after 
all,  his  conscience  was  free. 

When  he  wrote  to  Lucy,  it  never  struck  him  that  it 
was  needful  to  refer  to  the  events  that  had  preceded  his 
departure  from  London,  and  his  letter  was  full  of  the 
strenuous  agony  of  the  past  days.  He  told  her  how 
they  had  fought  hand  to  hand  with  death  and  had 
snatched  the  prey  from  his  grasp.  In  a  second  letter 
he  told  her  what  steps  he  was  taking  to  repair  the  dam- 
age that  had  been  caused,  and  what  he  was  doing  for 
those  who  were  in  immediate  need.  He  would  have 
given  much  to  be  able  to  write  down  the  feelings  of 
passionate  devotion  with  which  Lucy  filled  him,  but 
with  the  peculiar  shyness  which  was  natural  to  him,  he 


THE    EXPLORER  235 

could  not  bring  himself  to  it.     Of  the  accusation  with 
which  the  world  was  ringing,  he  said  never  a  word. 

Lucy  read  his  letters  over  and  over  again.  She 
could  not  understand  them,  and  they  seemed  strangely 
indifferent.  At  that  distance  from  the  scene  of  the  dis- 
aster she  could  not  realise  its  absorbing  anxiety,  and  she 
was  bitterly  disappointed  at  Alec's  absence.  She  wanted 
his  presence  so  badly,  and  she  had  to  bear  alone,  on 
her  own  shoulders,  the  full  weight  of  her  trouble.  When 
Macinnery's  second  letter  appeared,  Lady  Kelsey  gave 
it  to  her  without  a  word.  It  was  awful.  The  whole 
thing  was  preposterous,  but  it  hung  together  in  a  way 
that  was  maddening,  and  there  was  an  air  of  truth  about 
it  which  terrified  her.  And  why  should  Alec  insist  on 
this  impenetrable  silence?  She  had  offered  herself  the 
suggestion  that  political  exigencies  with  regard  to  the 
states  whose  spheres  of  influence  bordered  upon  the  ter- 
ritory which  Alec  had  conquered,  demanded  the  strict- 
est reserve;  but  this  explanation  soon  appeared  fantas- 
tic. She  read  all  that  was  said  in  the  papers  and 
found  that  opinion  was  dead  against  Alec.  Now  that 
it  was  become  a  party  matter,  his  own  side  defended 
him ;  but  in  a  half -hearted  way,  which  showed  how  poor 
the  case  was.  And  since  all  that  could  be  urged  in  his 
favour,  Lucy  had  already  repeated  to  herself  a  thousand 
times,  what  was  said  against  him  seemed  infinitely  more 
conclusive  than  what  was  said  for  him.  And  then  her 
conscience  smote  her.  Those  cruel  words  of  Bobbie's 
came  back  to  her,  and  she  was  overwhelmed  with  self- 
reproach  when  she  considered  that  it  was  her  own 
brother  of  whom  was  all  this  to-do.  She  must  be  ut- 
terly heartless  or  utterly  depraved.  And  then  with  a 


236  THE    EXPLORER 

despairing  energy  she  cried  out  that  she  believed  in 
Alec ;  he  was  incapable  of  a  treacherous  act. 

At  last  she  could  bear  it  no  longer,  and  she  wired  to 
him:  For  God's  sake  come  quickly. 

She  felt  that  she  could  not  endure  another  day  of  this 
misery.  She  waited  for  him,  given  over  to  the  wildest 
fears;  she  was  ashamed  and  humiliated.  She  counted 
the  hours  which  must  pass  before  he  could  arrive ;  surely 
he  would  not  delay.  All  her  self-possession  had  van- 
ished, and  she  was  like  a  child  longing  for  the  protecting 
arms  that  should  enfold  it. 

At  last  he  came.  Lucy  was  waiting  in  the  same  room 
in  which  she  had  sat  on  their  first  meeting  after  his  re- 
turn to  England.  She  sprang  up,  pale  and  eager,  and 
flung  herself  passionately  into  his  arms. 

'  Thank  God,  you've  come,'  she  said.  '  I  thought  the 
hours  would  never  end.' 

He  did  not  know  what  so  vehemently  disturbed  her, 
but  he  kissed  her  tenderly,  and  on  a  sudden  she  felt 
strangely  comforted.  There  was  an  extraordinary 
honesty  about  him  which  strengthened  and  consoled 
her.  For  a  while  she  could  not  speak,  but  clung  to  him, 
Bobbing. 

'What  is  it?'  he  asked  at  length.  'Why  did  you 
send  for  me  ? ' 

'  I  want  your  love.    I  want  your  love  so  badly/ 

It  was  inconceivable,  the  exquisite  tenderness  with 
which  he  caressed  her.  No  one  would  have  thought 
that  dour  man  capable  of  such  gentleness. 

'  I  felt  I  must  see  you/  she  sobbed.  *  You  don't 
know  what  tortures  I've  endured/ 

'Poor  child/ 


THE    EXPLORER  237 

He  kissed  her  hair  and  her  white,  pained  forehead. 

'  Why  did  you  go  away  ?    You  knew  I  wanted  you.' 

'  I'm  very  sorry.' 

'  I've  been  horribly  wretched.  I  didn't  know  I  could 
suffer  so  much.' 

'  Come  and  sit  down  and  tell  me  all  about  it.' 

He  led  her  to  the  sofa  and  made  her  sit  beside  him. 
His  arms  were  around  her,  and  she  nestled  close  to 
him.  For  a  moment  she  remained  silent,  enjoying  the 
feeling  of  great  relief  after  the  long  days  of  agony.  She 
smiled  lightly  through  her  tears. 

'  The  moment  I'm  with  you  I  feel  so  confident  and 
happy.' 

'  Only  when  you're  with  me  ? ' 

He  asked  the  question  caressingly,  in  a  low  passionate 
voice  that  she  had  never  heard  from  his  lips  before. 
She  did  not  answer,  but  clung  more  closely  to  him. 
Smiling,  he  repeated  the  question. 

'  Only  when  you're  with  me,  darling  ? ' 

'  I've  told  Bobbie  and  my  aunt  that  we're  going  to 
be  married.  They  made  me  suffer  so  dreadfully.  I 
had  to  tell  them.  I  couldn't  keep  it  back,  they  said 
such  horrible  things  about  you/ 

He  did  not  answer  for  a  moment. 

'  It's  very  natural/ 

'  It's  nothing  to  you/  she  cried  desperately.  '  But 
to  me.  .  .  .  Oh,  you  don't  know  what  agony  I  had 
to  endure/ 

'  I'm  glad  you  told  them/ 

'  Bobby  said  I  must  be  heartless  and  cruel.  And  if  s 
true:  George  is  nothing  to  me  now  when  I  think  of 
you.  My  heart  is  so  filled  with  my  love  for  you  that 
I  haven't  room  for  anything  else/ 


238  THE   EXPLORER 

'  I  hope  my  love  will  make  tip  for  all  that  you  have 
lost.  I  want  you  to  be  happy/ 

She  withdrew  from  his  arms  and  leaned  back, 
against  the  corner  of  the  sofa.  It  was  absolutely  nec- 
essary to  say  what  was  gnawing  at  her  heartstrings, 
but  she  felt  ashamed  and  could  not  look  at  him. 

'  That  wasn't  the  only  reason  I  told  them.  I'm  such 
a  coward.  I  thought  I  was  much  braver/ 

'Why?' 

Lucy  felt  on  a  sudden  sick  at  heart.  She  began  to 
tremble  a  little,  and  it  was  only  by  great  strength  of 
will  that  she  forced  herself  to  go  on.  She  was  horribly 
frightened.  Her  mouth  was  dry,  and  when  at  last 
the  words  came,  her  voice  sounded  unnatural. 

'  I  wanted  to  burn  my  ships  behind  me.  I  wanted 
to  reassure  myself/ 

This  time  it  was  Alec  who  did  not  answer,  for  he 
understood  now  what  was  on  her  mind.  His  heart 
sank,  since  he  saw  already  that  he  must  lose  her.  But 
he  had  faced  that  possibility  long  ago  in  the  heavy 
forests  of  Africa,  and  he  had  made  up  his  mind  that 
Lucy  could  do  without  love  better  than  without  self- 
respect. 

He  made  a  movement  to  get  up,  but  quickly  Lucy 
put  out  her  hand.  And  then  suddenly  a  fire  seized  him, 
and  a  vehement  determination  not  to  give  way  till  the 
end. 

'  I  don't  understand  you/  he  said  quietly. 

'  Forgive  me,  dear/  she  said. 

She  held  his  hand  in  hers,  and  she  spoke  quickly. 

'  You  don't  know  how  terrible  it  is.  I  stand  so 
dreadfully  alone.  Everyone  is  so  bitter  against  you, 
and  not  a  soul  has  a  good  word  to  say  for  you.  It'i 


THE    EXPLORER  239 

all  so  extraordinary  and  so  inexplicable.  It  seems  as 
if  I  am  the  only  person  who  isn't  convinced  that  you 
caused  poor  George's  death.  Oh,  how  callous  and  ut- 
terly heartless  people  must  think  me ! ' 

'  Does  it  matter  very  much  what  people  think  ? '  he 
said  gravely. 

*  I'm  so  ashamed  of  myself.  I  try  to  put  the  thoughts 
out  of  my  head,  but  I  can't.  I  simply  can't.  I've 
tried  to  be  brave.  I've  refused  to  discuss  the  possi- 
bility of  there  being  anything  in  those  horrible  charges. 
I  wanted  to  talk  to  Dick — I  knew  he  was  fond  of  you — 
but  I  didn't  dare.  It  seemed  treacherous  to  you,  and 
I  wouldn't  let  anyone  see  that  it  meant  anything  to 
me.  The  first  letter  wasn't  so  bad,  but  the  second — oh, 
it  looks  so  dreadfully  true/ 

Alec  gave  her  a  rapid  glance.  This  was  the  first 
he  had  heard  of  another  communication  to  the  paper. 
During  the  frenzied  anxiety  of  those  dajs  at  the  col- 
liery, he  had  had  time  to  attend  to  nothing  but  the 
pressing  work  of  rescue.  But  he  made  no  reply. 

'  I've  read  it  over  and  over  again,  and  I  can't  under- 
stand. When  Bobbie  says  it's  conclusive,  I  tell  him  it 
means  nothing — but — don't  you  see  what  I  mean?  The 
uncertainty  is  more  than  I  can  bear.' 

She  stopped  suddenly,  and  now  she  looked  at  him. 
There  was  a  pitiful  appeal  in  her  eyes. 

'At  the  first  moment  I  felt  so  absolutely  sure  of 
you/ 

(  And  now  you  don't  ? '  he  asked  quietly. 

She  cast  down  her  eyes  once  more,  and  a  sob  caught 
her  breath. 

'I  trust  you  just  as  much  as  ever.  I  know  it's 
impossible  that  you  should  have  done  a  shameful  deed. 


240  THE    EXPLORER 

But  there  it  stands  in  black  and  white,  and  you  have 
nothing  to  say  in  answer/ 

'  I  know  it's  very  difficult.  That's  why  I  asked  you 
to  believe  in  me/ 

'  I  do,  Alec,'  she  cried  vehemently.  '  With  all  my 
soul.  But  have  mercy  on  me.  I'm  not  as  strong  as  I 
thought.  It's  easy  for  you  to  stand  alone.  You're 
iron.  You're  a  mountain  of  granite.  But  I'm  a  weak 
woman,  pitifully  weak/ 

He  shook  his  head. 

'  Oh,  no,  you're  not  like  other  women/ 

'  It  was  easy  to  be  brave  where  my  father  was  con- 
cerned, or  George,  but  now  it's  so  different.  Love  has 
changed  me.  I  haven't  the  courage  any  more  to  with- 
stand the  opinion  of  all  my  fellows/ 

Alec  got  up  and  walked  once  or  twice  across  the 
room.  He  seemed  to  be  thinking  deeply.  Lucy  fancied 
that  he  must  hear  the  beating  of  her  heart.  He  stopped 
in  front  of  her.  Her  heart  was  wrung  by  the  great 
pain  that  was  in  his  voice. 

*  Don't  you  remember  that  only  a  few  days  ago  I 
told  you  that  I'd  done  nothing  which  I  wouldn't  do 
again  ?  I  gave  you  my  word  of  honour  that  I  could  re- 
proach myself  for  nothing/ 

{  Oh,  I  know/  she  cried.  '  I'm  so  utterly  ashamed  of 
myself.  But  I  can't  bear  the  doubt/ 

'  Doubt.    You've  said  the  word  at  last/ 

'  I  tell  myself  that  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  these 
horrible  charges.  I  repeat  to  myself:  I'm  certain,  I'm 
certain  that  he's  innocent/ 

She  gathered  strength  in  the  desperation  of  her 
love,  and  now  at  the  crucial  moment  she  had  all  the 
courage  she  needed. 


THE    EXPLORER  241 

'  And  yet  at  the  bottom  of  my  heart  there's  the 
doubt.  And  I  can't  crush  it.' 

She  waited  for  him  to  answer,  but  he  did  not  speak. 

'  I  wanted  to  kill  that  bitter  pain  of  suspicion.  I 
thought  if  I  stood  up  before  them  and  cried  out  that 
my  trust  in  you  was  so  great,  I  was  willing  to  marry 
you  notwithstanding  everything — I  should  at  last  have 
peace  in  my  heart.' 

Alec  went  to  the  window  and  looked  out.  The  west- 
ering sun  slanted  across  the  street.  Carriages  and 
motors  were  waiting  at  the  door  of  the  house  opposite, 
and  a  little  crowd  of  footmen  clustered  about  the 
steps.  They  were  giving  a  party,  and  through  the 
open  windows  Alec  could  see  a  throng  of  women.  The 
sky  was  very  blue.  He  turned  back  to  Lucy. 

'Will  you  s:iow  me  the  second  letter  of  which  you 
speak?' 

'  Haven't  you  seen  it  ? '  she  asked  in  astonishment. 

'  I  was  so  busy,  I  had  no  time  to  look  at  the  papers. 
I  suppose  no  one  thought  it  his  business  to  draw  my 
attention  to  it.' 

Lucy  went  into  the  second  drawing-room,  divided 
from  that  in  which  they  sat  by  an  archway,  and  brought 
him  the  copy  of  the  Daily  Mail  for  which  he  asked. 
She  gave  it,  and  he  took  it  silently.  He  sat  down  and 
with  attention  read  the  letter  through.  He  observed 
with  bitter  scorn  the  thoroughness  with  which  Machi- 
nery had  set  out  the  case  against  him.  In  this  letter 
he  filled  up  the  gaps  which  had  been  left  in  the  first, 
adding  here  and  there  details  which  gave  a  greater 
coherency  to  the  whole;  and  his  evidence  had  an  air 
of  truth,  since  he  quoted  the  very  words  of  porters 
and  askari  who  had  been  on  the  expedition.  It  was 

16 


242  THE    EXPLORER 

wonderful  what  power  had  that  small  admixture  of 
falsehood  joined  with  what  was  admittedly  true,  to 
change  the  whole  aspect  of  the  case.  Alec  was  obliged 
to  confess  that  Lucy  had  good  grounds  for  her  sus- 
picion. There  was  a  specious  look  about  the  story, 
which  would  have  made  him  credit  it  himself  if  some 
other  man  had  been  concerned.  The  facts  were  given 
with  sufficient  exactness,  and  the  untruth  lay  only 
in  the  motives  that  were  ascribed  to  him;  but  who 
could  tell  what  another's  motives  were?  Alec  put  the 
paper  on  the  table,  and  leaning  back,  his  face  resting 
in  his  hand,  thought  deeply.  He  saw  again  that  scene 
in  his  tent  when  the  wind  was  howling  outside  and  the 
rain  falling,  falling;  he  recalled  George's  white  face, 
the  madness  that  came  over  him  when  he  fired  at  Alec, 
the  humility  of  his  submission.  The  earth  covered  the 
boy,  his  crime,  and  his  weakness.  It  was  not  easy 
to  save  one's  self  at  a  dead  man's  expense.  And  he 
knew  that  George's  strength  and  courage  had  meant 
more  than  her  life  to  Lucy.  How  could  he  cause  her 
the  bitter  pain  ?  How  could  he  tell  her  that  her  brother 
died  because  he  was  a  coward  and  a  rogue  ?  How  could 
he  tell  her  the  pitiful  story  of  the  boy's  failure  to 
redeem  the  good  name  that  was  so  dear  to  her?  And 
what  proof  could  he  offer  of  anything  he  said  ?  Walker 
had  been  killed  on  the  same  night  as  George,  poor 
Walker  with  his  cheerfulness  in  difficulties  and  his 
buoyant  spirits :  his  death  too  must  be  laid  to  the 
charge  of  George  Allerton;  Adamson  had  died  of 
fever.  Those  two  alone  had  any  inkling  of  the  truth; 
they  could  have  told  a  story  that  would  at  least  have 
thrown  grave  doubts  upon  Macinnery's.  But  Alec  set 
his  teeth;  he  did  not  want  their  testimony.  Finally 


THE    EXPLORER  243 

there  was  the  promise.  He  had  given  his  solemn  oath, 
and  the  place  and  the  moment  made  it  seem  more 
binding,  that  he  would  utter  no  word  that  should  lead 
Lucy  to  suspect  even  for  an  instant  that  her  brother 
had  been  untrue  to  the  trust  she  had  laid  upon  him. 
Alec  was  a  man  of  scrupulous  truthfulness,  not  from 
deliberately  moral  motives  but  from  mere  taste,  and 
he  could  not  have  broken  his  promise  for  the  great 
discomfort  it  would  have  caused  him.  But  it  was  the 
least  of  the  motives  which  influenced  him.  Even  if 
George  had  exacted  nothing,  he  would  have  kept  silence. 
And  then,  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  was  a  fierce  pride. 
He  was  conscious  of  the  honesty  of  his  motives,  and 
he  expected  that  Lucy  should  share  his  consciousness. 
She  must  believe  what  he  said  to  her  because  he  said 
it.  He  could  not  suffer  the  humiliation  of  defend- 
ing himself,  and  he  felt  that  her  love  could  not  be 
very  great  if  she  could  really  doubt  him.  And  because 
he  was  very  proud  perhaps  he  was  unjust.  He  did  not 
know  that  he  was  putting  upon  her  a  trial  which  he 
should  have  asked  no  one  to  bear. 

He  stood  up  and  faced  Lucy. 

'  What  is  it  precisely  you  want  me  to  do  ? '  he 
asked. 

'  I  want  you  to  have  mercy  on  me  because  I  love 
you.  Don't  tell  the  world  if  you  choose  not  to.  But 
tell  me  the  truth.  I  know  you're  incapable  of  lying. 
If  I  only  have  it  from  your  own  lips  I  shall  believe. 
I  want  to  be  certain,  certain.' 

'  Don't  you  realise  that  I  would  never  have  asked 
you  to  marry  me  if  my  conscience  hadn't  been  quite 
clear  ? '  he  said  slowly.  '  Don't  you  see  that  the  rea- 
sons I  have  for  holding  my  tongue  must  be  overwhelm- 


244  THE    EXPLORER 

ing,  or  I  Wouldn't  stand  by  calmly  while  my  good  name 
was  torn  from  me  shred  by  shred  ? ' 

*  But  I'm  going  to  be  your  wife,  and  I  love  you,  and 
I  know  you  love  me.' 

'  I  implore  you  not  to  insist,  Lucy.  Let  us  remem- 
ber only  that  the  past  is  gone  and  that  we  love  one 
another.  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  tell  you  anything.' 

'  Oh,  but  you  must  now/  she  implored.  '  If  any- 
thing has  happened,  if  any  part  of  the  story  is  true, 
you  must  give  me  a  chance  of  judging  for  myself.' 

'  I'm  very  sorry.     I  can't.' 

'  But  you'll  kill  my  love  for  you.' 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  pressed  both  hands  to 
her  heart. 

(  The  doubt  that  lurked  at  the  bottom  of  my  soul, 
now  fills  me.  How  can  you  let  me  suffer  such  madden- 
ing torture  ? ' 

An  expression  of  anguish  passed  across  his  calm  eyes. 
He  made  a  gesture  of  despair. 

'  I  thought  you  trusted  me.' 

'  I'll  be  satisfied  if  you'll  only  tell  me  one  thing/ 
She  put  her  hands  to  her  head  with  a  rapid,  aimless 
movement  that  showed  the  extremity  of  her  agitation. 
'  Oh,  what  has  love  done  with  me  ? '  she  cried  desper- 
ately. '  I  was  so  proud  of  my  brother  and  so  utterly 
devoted  to  him.  But  I  loved  you  so  much  that  there 
wasn't  any  room  in  my  heart  for  the  past.  I  forgot  all 
my  unhappiness  and  all  my  loss.  And  even  now  they 
seem  so  little  to  me  beside  your  love  that  it's  you  I 
think  of  first.  I  want  to  know  that  I  can  love  you 
freely.  I'll  be  satisfied  if  you'll  only  tell  me  that 
when  you  sent  George  out  that  night,  you  didn't  know 
he'd  be  killed.' 


THE    EXPLORER  245 

Alec  looked  at  her  steadily.  And  once  more  he  saw 
himself  in  the  African  tent  amid  the  rain  and  the 
boisterous  wind.  At  the  time  he  sought  to  persuade 
himself  that  George  had  a  chance  of  escape.  He  told 
him  with  his  own  lips  that  if  he  showed  perfect  self- 
confidence  at  the  moment  of  danger  he  might  save  him- 
self alive;  but  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart  he  knew,  he 
had  known  all  along,  that  it  was  indeed  death  he  was 
sending  him  to,  for  George  had  not  the  last  virtue  of 
a  scoundrel,  courage. 

'  Only  say  that,  Alec/  she  repeated.  ( Say  that's 
not  true,  and  I'll  believe  you/ 

There  was  a  silence.  Lucy's  heart  beat  against  her 
breast  like  a  caged  bird.  She  waited  in  horrible  sus- 
pense. 

'  But  it  is  true,'  he  said,  very  quietly. 

Lucy  did  not  answer.  She  stared  at  him  with  ter- 
rified eyes.  Her  brain  reeled,  and  she  feared  that  she 
was  going  to  faint.  She  had  to  put  forth  all  her 
strength  to  drive  back  the  enveloping  night  that  seemed 
to  crowd  upon  her. 

'  It  is  true,'  he  repeated. 

She  gave  a  gasp  of  pain. 

'  I  don't  understand.  Oh,  my  dearest,  don't  treat 
me  as  a  child.  Have  mercy  on  me.  You  must  be  serious 
now.  It's  a  matter  of  life  and  death  to  both  of  us.' 

'  I'm  perfectly  serious.' 

A  frightful  coldness  appeared  to  seize  her,  and  the 
tips  of  her  fingers  were  strangely  numbed. 

'  You  knew  that  you  were  sending  George  into  a 
death-trap  ?  You  knew  that  he  could  not  escape  alive  ?  ' 

'  Except  by  a  miracle.' 

'  And  you  don't  believe  in  miracles  ?  ' 


246  THE    EXPLORER 

Alec  made  no  answer.  She  looked  at  him  with  in- 
creasing horror.  Her  eyes  were  staring  wildly.  She 
repeated  the  question. 

'  And  you  don't  believe  in  miracles  ?  ' 

'No.' 

She  was  seized  with  all  manner  of  conflicting  emo- 
tions. They  seemed  to  wage  a  tumultuous  battle  in 
the  depths  of  her  heart.  She  was  filled  with  horror 
and  dismay,  bitter  anger,  remorse  for  her  callous  in- 
difference to  George's  death;  and  at  the  same  time 
she  felt  an  overwhelming  love  for  Alec.  And  how  could 
she  love  him  now? 

'  Oh,  it  can't  be  true,'  she  cried.  '  It's  infamous. 
Oh,  Alec,  Alec,  Alec  ...  0  God,  what  shall  I  do.' 

Alec  held  himself  upright.  He  set  his  teeth,  and  his 
heavy  jaw  seemed  squarer  than  ever.  There  was  a 
great  sternness  in  his  voice. 

'  I  tell  you  that  whatever  I  did  was  inevitable.' 

Lucy  flushed  at  the  sound  of  his  voice,  and  anger 
and  sudden  hatred  took  the  place  of  all  other  feelings. 

'  Then  if  that's  true,  the  rest  must  be  true.  Why 
don't  you  acknowledge  as  well  that  you  sacrificed  my 
brother's  life  in  order  to  save  your  own  ? ' 

But  the  mood  passed  quickly,  and  in  a  moment  she 
•was  seized  with  dismay. 

'  Oh,  it's  awful.  I  can't  realise  it/  She  turned  to 
him  with  a  desperate  appeal.  '  Haven't  you  anything 
to  say  at  all  ?  You  know  how  much  I  loved  my  brother. 
You  know  how  much  it  meant  to  me  that  he  should  live 
to  wipe  out  all  memory  of  my  father's  crime.  All  the 
future  was  centred  upon  him.  You  can't  have  sacri- 
ficed him  callously/ 

Alec  hesitated  for  an  instant. 


THE    EXPLORER  247 

'  I  think  I  might  tell  you  this/  he  said.  '  We  were 
entrapped  by  the  Arabs,  and  our  only  chance  of  escape 
entailed  the  death  of  one  of  us.' 

*  So  you  chose  my  brother  because  you  loved  me.' 

Alec  looked  at  her.  There  was  an  extraordinary  sad- 
ness in  his  eyes,  but  she  did  not  see  it.  He  answered 
very  gravely. 

'  You  see,  the  fault  was  his.  He  had  committed  a 
grave  error.  It  was  not  unjust  that  he  should  suffer 
for  the  catastrophe  that  he  had  brought  about.' 

'  At  those  times  one  doesn't  think  of  justice.  He  was 
so  young,  so  frank  and  honest.  Wouldn't  it  have  been 
nobler  to  give  your  life  for  his  ? ' 

'  Oh,  my  dear,'  he  answered,  with  all  the  gentleness 
that  was  in  him,  '  you  don't  know  how  easy  it  is  to  give 
one's  life,  how  much  more  difficult  it  is  to  be  just  than 
generous.  How  little  you  know  me!  Do  you  think  I 
should  have  hesitated  if  the  difficulty  had  been  one 
that  my  death  could  solve?  It  was  necessary  that  I 
should  live.  I  had  my  work  to  do.  I  was  bound  by 
solemn  treaties  to  the  surrounding  tribes.  Even  if  that 
had  been  all,  it  would  have  been  cowardly  for  me  to  die.' 

( It  is  easy  to  find  excuses  for  not  acting  like  a  brave 
man.'  She  flung  the  words  at  him  with  indignant 
scorn. 

'  I  was  indispensable,'  he  answered.  '  The  whites 
I  took  with  me  I  chose  as  instruments,  not  as  leaders. 
If  I  had  died  the  expedition  would  have  broken  in 
pieces.  It  was  my  influence  that  held  together  such  of 
the  native  tribes  as  remained  faithful  to  us.  I  had 
given  my  word  that  I  would  not  desert  them  till  I  had 
exterminated  the  slave-raiders.  Two  days  after  my 
death  my  force  would  have  melted  away,  and  the  whites 


248  THE    EXPLORER 

would  have  been  helpless.  Not  one  of  them  would  have 
escaped.  And  then  the  country  would  have  been  given 
up,  defenceless,  to  those  cursed  Arabs.  Fire  and  sword 
would  have  come  instead  of  the  peace  I  promised ;  and 
the  whole  country  would  have  been  rendered  desolate. 
I  tell  you  that  it  was  my  duty  to  live  till  I  had  carried 
out  my  work.' 

Lucy  drew  herself  up  a  little.  She  looked  at  him 
firmly,  and  said  very  quietly  and  steadily: 

'  You  coward !    You  coward ! ' 

4 1  knew  at  the  time  that  what  I  did  might  cost  me 
your  love,  and  though  you  won't  believe  this,  I  did  it 
for  your  sake.' 

'  I  wish  I  had  a  whip  in  my  hand  that  I  might  slash 
you  across  the  face.' 

For  a  moment  he  did  not  say  anything.  She  was 
quivering  with  indignation  and  with  contempt. 

'  You  see,  it  has  cost  me  your  love,'  he  said.  '  I 
suppose  it  was  inevitable/ 

'  I  am  ashamed  that  I  ever  loved  you/ 

<  Good-bye/ 

He  turned  round  and  walked  slowly  to  the  door. 
He  held  his  head  erect,  and  there  was  no  sign  of  emo- 
tion on  his  face.  But  as  soon  as  he  was  gone  Lucy 
could  keep  her  self-control  no  longer.  She  sank  into  a 
chair,  and  hiding  her  face,  began  to  sob  as  though  her 
poor  tortured  heart  would  break. 


xvin 

ALEC  went  back  to  Lancashire  next  day.  Much  was 
still  required  before  the  colliery  could  be  put  once 
more  in  proper  order,  and  he  was  overwhelmed  with 
work.  Lucy  was  not  so  fortunate.  She  had  nothing 
to  do  but  to  turn  over  in  her  mind  the  conversation 
they  had  had.  She  passed  one  sleepless  night  after 
another.  She  felt  ill  and  wretched.  She  told  Lady 
Kelsey  that  her  engagement  with  MacKenzie  was 
broken  off,  but  gave  no  reason;  and  Lady  Kelsey,  see- 
ing her  white,  tortured  face,  had  not  the  heart  to 
question  her.  The  good  lady  knew  that  her  niece 
was  desperately  unhappy,  but  she  did  not  know  how 
to  help  her.  Lucy  never  sought  for  the  sympathy  of 
others  and  chose  rather  to  bear  her  troubles  alone. 
The  season  was  drawing  to  a  close,  and  Lady  Kelsey 
suggested  that  they  should  advance  by  a  week  or  two 
the  date  of  their  departure  for  the  country;  but  Lucy 
would  do  nothing  to  run  away  from  her  suffering. 

'  I  don't  know  why  you  should  alter  your  plans/  she 
said  quietly. 

Lady  Kelsey  looked  at  her  compassionately,  but  did 
not  insist.  She  felt  somehow  that  Lucy  was  of  different 
clay  from  herself,  and  for  all  her  exquisite  gentle- 
ness, her  equanimity  and  pleasant  temper,  she  had 
never  been  able  to  get  entirely  at  close  quarters  with 
her.  She  would  have  given  much  to  see  Lucy  give 
way  openly  to  her  grief ;  and  her  arms  would  have  been 
open  to  receive  her,  if  her  niece  had  only  flung  herself 

249 


250  THE    EXPLORER 

simply  into  them.  But  Lucy's  spirit  was  broken.  With 
the  extreme  reserve  that  was  part  of  her  nature,  she  put 
all  her  strength  into  the  effort  to  behave  in  the  world 
with  decency ;  and  dreading  any  attempt  at  commisera- 
tion, she  forced  herself  to  be  no  less  cheerful  than 
usual.  The  strain  was  hardly  tolerable.  She  had  set 
all  her  hopes  of  happiness  upon  Alec,  and  he  had  failed 
her.  She  thought  more  of  her  brother  and  her  father 
than  she  had  done  of  late,  and  she  mourned  for  them 
both  as  though  the  loss  she  had  sustained  were  quite  re- 
cent. It  seemed  to  her  that  the  only  thing  now  was  to 
prevent  herself  from  thinking  of  Alec,  and  with  angry 
determination  she  changed  her  thoughts  as  soon  as 
he  came  into  them. 

Presently  something  else  occurred  to  her.  She  felt 
that  she  owed  some  reparation  to  Bobbie:  he  had  seen 
the  truth  at  once,  and  because  he  had  pointed  it  out 
to  her,  as  surely  it  was  his  duty  to  do,  she  had  answered 
him  with  bitter  words.  He  had  shown  himself  extraor- 
dinarily kind,  and  she  had  been  harsh  and  cruel. 
Perhaps  he  knew  that  she  was  no  longer  engaged  to 
marry  Alec  MacKenzie,  and  he  must  guess  the  reason; 
but  since  the  night  of  the  dance  he  had  not  been  near 
them.  She  looked  upon  what  Alec  had  told  her  as  ad- 
dressed to  her  only,  and  she  could  not  repeat  it  to  all 
and  sundry.  When  acquaintances  had  referred  to  the 
affair,  her  manner  had  shown  them  quickly  that  she 
did  not  intend  to  discuss  it.  But  Ptobert  Boulger  was 
different.  It  seemed  necessary,  in  consideration  of  all 
that  had  passed,  that  he  should  be  told  the  little  she 
knew;  and  then  she  thought  also,  seized  on  a  sudden 
with  a  desire  for  self-sacrifice,  that  it  was  her  duty 
perhaps  to  reward  him  for  his  long  devotion.  She 


THE    EXPLORER  251 

might  at  least  try  to  make  him  a  good  wife;  and  she 
could  explain  exactly  how  she  felt  towards  him.  There 
would  be  no  deceit.  Her  life  had  no  value  now,  and 
if  it  really  meant  so  much  to  him  to  marry  her,  it  was 
right  that  she  should  consent.  And  there  was  another 
thing:  it  would  put  an  irrevocable  barrier  between 
herself  and  Alec. 

Lady  Kelsey  was  accustomed  to  ask  a  few  people  to 
luncheon  every  Tuesday,  and  Lucy  suggested  that  they 
should  invite  Bobbie  on  one  of  these  occasions.  Lady 
Kelsey  was  much  pleased,  for  she  was  fond  of  her 
nephew,  and  it  had  pained  her  that  she  had  not  seen 
him.  She  had  sent  a  line  to  tell  him  that  Lucy  was 
no  longer  engaged,  but  he  had  not  answered.  Lucy 
wrote  the  invitation  herself. 

My  Dear  Bobbie: 

Aunt  Alice  will  lie  very  glad  if  you  can  lunch  with 
us  on  Tuesday  at  two.  We  are  asking  Dick,  Julia 
Crowley,  and  Canon  Spratte.  If  you  can  come,  and 
I  hope  you  will,  it  would  be  very  kind  of  you  to  arrive 
a  good  deal  earlier  than  the  others;  I  want  to  talk  to 
you  about  something. 

Yours  affectionately, 

Lucy. 

He  answered  at  once. 

My  Dear  Lucy: 

I  will  come  with  pleasure.  I  hope  half-past  one  will 
suit  you.  Your  affectionate  cousin, 

Robert  Boulger. 

'  Why  haven't  you  been  to  see  us  ? '  she  said,  holding 
his  hand,  when  at  the  appointed  time  he  appeared. 


252  THE    EXPLORER 

'  I  thought  you  didn't  much  want  to  see  me/ 
'  I'm  afraid  I  was  very  cruel  and  unkind  to  you  last 
time  you  were  here/  she  said. 

*  It  doesn't  matter  at  all/  he  said  gently. 

'  I  think  I  should  tell  you  that  I  did  as  you  sug- 
gested to  me.  I  asked  Alec  MacKenzie  pointblank, 
and  he  confessed  that  he  was  guilty  of  George's  death.' 

'  I'm  very  sorry/  said  Bobbie. 

c  Why  ? '  she  asked,  looking  up  at  him  with  tear- 
laden  eyes. 

'  Because  I  know  that  you  were  very  much  in  love 
with  him/  he  answered. 

Lucy  flushed.    But  she  had  much  more  to  say. 

'  I  was  very  unjust  to  you  on  the  night  of  that  dance. 
You  were  right  to  speak  to  me  as  you  did,  and  I  was 
very  foolish.  I  regret  what  I  said,  and  I  beg  you  to 
forgive  me.' 

*  There's  nothing  to  forgive,  Lucy/  he  said  warmly. 
'What  does  it  matter  what  you  said?     You  know  I 
love  you.' 

'  I  don't  know  what  I've  done  to  deserve  such  love/ 
she  said.  '  You  make  me  dreadfully  ashamed  of  my- 
self.' 

He  took  her  hand,  and  she  did  not  attempt  to  with- 
draw it. 

{ Won't  you  change  your  mind,  Lucy  ? '  he  said 
earnestly. 

'  Oh,  my  dear,  I  don't  love  you.  I  wish  I  did.  But 
I  don't  and  I'm  afraid  I  never  can.' 

'  Won't  you  marry  me  all  the  same  ? ' 

'  Do  you  care  for  me  so  much  as  that  ? '  she  cried 
painfully. 

'  Perhaps  you  will  learn  to  love  me  in  time.' 


LUCY 


THE    EXPLORER  253 

'  Don't  be  so  humble ;  you  make  me  still  more 
ashamed.  Bobbie,  I  should  like  to  make  you  happy  if 
I  thought  I  could.  It  seems  very  wonderful  to  me 
that  you  should  want  to  have  me.  But  I  must  be  honest 
with  you.  I  know  that  if  I  pretend  I'm  willing  to 
marry  you  merely  for  your  sake  I'm  deceiving  myself. 
I  want  to  marry  you  because  I'm  afraid.  I  want  to 
crush  my  love  for  Alec.  I  want  to  make  it  impossible 
for  me  ever  to  weaken  in  my  resolve.  You  see,  I'm 
horrid  and  calculating,  and  it's  very  little  I  can  offer 
you.' 

'  I  don't  care  why  you're  marrying  me/  he  said.  '  I 
want  you  so  badly/ 

'  Oh,  no,  don't  take  me  like  that.  Let  me  say  first 
that  if  you  really  think  me  worth  having,  I  will  do  my 
duty  gladly.  And  if  I  have  no  love  to  give,  I  have 
a  great  deal  of  affection  and  a  great  deal  of  gratitude. 
I  want  you  to  be  happy.' 

He  went  down  on  his  knees  and  kissed  her  hands  pas- 
sionately. 

4  I'm  so  thankful,'  he  murmured.    '  I'm  so  thankful.' 

Lucy  bent  down  and  gently  kissed  his  hair.  Two 
tears  rolled  heavily  down  her  cheeks. 

Five  minutes  later  Lady  Kelsey  came  in.  She  was 
delighted  to  see  that  her  nephew  and  her  niece  were  ap- 
parently once  more  on  friendly  terms;  but  she  had 
no  time  to  find  out  what  had  happened,  for  Canon 
Spratte  was  immediately  announced.  Lady  Kelsey  had 
heard  that  he  was  to  be  offered  a  vacant  bishopric, 
and  she  mourned  over  his  disappearance  from  London. 
He  was  a  spiritual  mentor  who  exactly  suited  her, 
handsome,  urbane,  attentive  notwithstanding  her  ma- 


254  THE    EXPLORER 

tnre  age,  and  well-connected.  He  was  just  the  man  to 
be  a  bishop.  Then  Mrs.  Crowley  appeared.  They 
waited  a  little,  and  presently  Dick  was  announced.  He 
sauntered  in  jauntily,  unaware  that  he  had  kept  the 
others  waiting  a  full  quarter  of  an  hour;  and  the 
party  was  complete. 

No  gathering  could  be  tedious  when  Canon  Spratte 
was  present,  and  the  conversation  proceeded  merrily. 
Mrs.  Crowley  looked  ravishing  in  a  summer  frock,  and 
since  she  addressed  herself  exclusively  to  the  handsome 
parson  it  was  no  wonder  that  he  was  in  a  good  humour. 
She  laughed  appreciatively  at  his  facile  jests  and  gave 
him  provoking  glances  of  her  bright  eyes.  He  did 
not  attempt  to  conceal  from  her  that  he  thought 
American  women  the  most  delightful  creatures  in  the 
world,  and  she  made  no  secret  of  her  opinion  that 
ecclesiastical  dignitaries  were  often  fascinating.  They 
paid  one  another  outrageous  compliments.  It  never 
struck  the  good  man  that  these  charms  and  graces 
were  displayed  only  for  the  purpose  of  vexing  a  gentle- 
man of  forty,  who  was  eating  his  luncheon  irritably  on 
the  other  side  of  her.  She  managed  to  avoid  talking 
to  Dick  Lomas  afterwards,  but  when  she  bade  Lady 
Kelsey  farewell,  he  rose  also. 

'  Shall  I  drive  you  home  ? '  he  asked. 

'  I'm  not  going  home,  but  if  you  like  to  drive  me  to 
Victoria  Street,  you  may.  I  have  an  appointment  there 
at  four.' 

They  went  out,  stepped  into  a  cab,  and  quite  coolly 
Dick  told  the  driver  to  go  to  Hammersmith.  He  sat 
himself  down  by  her  side,  with  a  smile  of  self-satis- 
faction. 

'  What  on  earth  are  you  doing  ?  '  she  cried. 


THE    EXPLORER  255 

'  I  want  to  have  a  talk  to  you.' 

'  I'm  sure  that's  charming  of  you/  she  answered, 
'but  I  shall  miss  my  appointment/ 

*  That's  a  matter  of  complete  indifference  to  me/ 
' Don't  bother  about  my  feelings,  will  you?'   she 

replied,  satirically. 

'  I  have  no  intention  of  doing  so,'  he  smiled. 

Mrs.  Crowley  was  obliged  to  laugh  at  the  neatness 
with  which  he  had  entrapped  her.  Or  had  he  fallen 
into  the  trap  which  she  had  set  for  him?  She  really 
did  not  quite  know. 

'  If  your  object  in  thus  abducting  me  was  to  talk, 
hadn't  you  better  do  so  ?  '  she  asked.  '  I  hope  you  will 
endeavour  to  be  not  only  amusing  but  instructive/ 

'  I  wanted  to  point  out  to  you  that  it  is  not  civil 
pointedly  to  ignore  a  man  who  is  sitting  next  to  you 
at  luncheon.' 

'Did  I  do  that?  I'm  so  sorry.  But  I  know  you're 
greedy,  and  I  thought  you'd  be  absorbed  in  the  lob- 
ster mayonnaise/ 

*  I'm  beginning  to  think  I  dislike  you  rather  than 
otherwise,'  he  murmured  reflectively. 

*  Ah,  I  suppose  that  is  why  you  haven't  been  in  to 
see  me  for  so  long/ 

'  May  I  venture  to  remind  you  that  I've  called  upon 
you  three  times  during  the  last  week/ 

'  I've  been  out  so  much  lately,'  she  answered,  with  a 
little  wave  of  her  hand. 

'  Nonsense.  Once  I  heard  you  playing  scales  in  the 
drawing-room,  and  once  I  positively  saw  you  peeping 
at  me  through  the  curtains/ 

'  Why  didn't  you  make  a  face  at  me  ? '  she  asked. 

'  You're  not  going  to  trouble  to  deny  it  ? ' 


256  THE    EXPLORER 

'  It's  perfectly  true.' 

Dick  could  not  help  giving  a  little  laugh.  He  didn't 
quite  know  whether  he  wanted  to  kiss  Julia  Crowley 
or  to  shake  her. 

'  And  may  I  ask  why  you've  treated  me  in  this 
abominable  fashion?'  he  asked  blandly. 

She  looked  at  him  sideways  from  beneath  her  long 
eyelashes.  Dick  was  a  man  who  appreciated  the  ar- 
tifices of  civilisation  in  the  fair  sex,  and  he  was  pleased 
with  her  pretty  hat  and  with  the  flounces  of  her  muslin 
frock. 

'  Because  I  chose,'  she  smiled. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  put  on  an  air  of 
resignation. 

*  Of  course  if  you're  going  to  make  yourself  syste- 
matically disagreeable  unless  I  marry  you,  I  suppose 
I  must  bow  to  the  inevitable.' 

*  I  don't  know  if  you  have  the  least  idea  what  you're 
talking  about,'  she  answered,  raising  her  eybrows.   '  I'm 
sure  I  haven't.' 

'I  was  merely  asking  yon  in  a  rather  well-turned 
phrase  to  name  the  day.  The  lamb  shall  be  ready  for 
the  slaughter.' 

'  Is  that  a  proposal  of  marriage? '  she  asked  gaily. 

1  If  not  it  must  be  its  twin  brother,'  he  returned. 

*  I'm  so  glad  you've  told  me,  because  if  I'd  met  it 
in  the  street  I  should  never  have  recognised  it,  and  I 
should  simply  have  cut  it  dead.' 

'  You  show  as  little  inclination  to  answer  a  question 
as  a  cabinet  minister  in  the  House  of  Commons.' 

*  Couldn't  you  infuse  a  little  romance  into  it?    You 
see,   I'm   American,   and   I   have   a  certain  taste   for 
sentiment  in  affairs  of  the  heart.' 


THE    EXPLORER  257 

'  I  should  be  charmed,  only  you  must  remember  that 
I  have  no  experience  in  these  matters/ 

'  That  is  visible  to  the  naked  eye/  she  retorted.  '  But 
I  would  suggest  that  it  is  only  decent  to  go  down  on 
your  bended  knees/ 

'  That  sounds  a  perilous  feat  to  perform  in  a  hansom 
cab,  and  it  would  certainly  attract  an  amount  of  atten- 
tion from  passing  'bus-drivers  which  would  be  em- 


'  You  could  never  convince  me  of  the  sincerity  of 
your  passion  unless  you  did  something  of  the  kind/  she 
replied. 

'  I  assure  you  that  it  is  quite  out  of  fashion.  Lovers 
now-a-days  are  much  too  middle-aged,  and  their  joints 
are  creaky.  Besides  it  ruins  the  trousers/ 

*  I  admit  your  last  reason  is  overwhelming.    No  nice 
woman  should  ask  a  man  to  make  his  trousers  baggy 
at  the  knees/ 

'  How  could  she  love  him  if  they  were ! '  exclaimed 
Dick. 

'  But  at  all  events  there  can  be  no  excuse  for  your 
not  saying  that  you  know  you  are  utterly  unworthy 
of  me/ 

*  Wild  horses  wouldn't  induce  me  to  make  a  state- 
ment which  is  so  remote  from  the  truth/  he  replied 
coolly.     '  I  did  it  with  my  little  hatchet/ 

*  And  of  course  you  must  threaten  to  commit  suicide 
if  I  don't  consent.     That  is  only  decent/ 

'  Women  are  such  sticklers  for  routine/  he  sighed. 
*  They  have  no  originality.  They  have  a  passion  for 
commonplace,  and  in  moments  of  emotion  they  fly 
with  unerring  instinct  into  the  flamboyance  of  melo- 
drama/ 

17 


258  THE    EXPLORER 

'  I  like  to  hear  you  use  long  words.  It  makes  me  feel 
so  grown  up.* 

'By  the  way,  how  old  are  you?'  he  asked  sud- 
denly. 

'  Twenty-nine,'  she  answered  promptly. 

<  Nonsense.     There  is  no  such  age/ 

*  Pardon  me/  she  protested  gravely.     *  Upper  par- 
lour maids  are  always  twenty-nine.    But  I  deplore  your 
tendency  to  digress.' 

'Am  I  digressing?  Fm  so  sorry.  What  were  we 
talking  about  ? ' 

Julia  giggled.  She  did  not  know  where  the  cab  was 
going,  and  she  certainly  did  not  care.  She  was  thor- 
oughly enjoying  herself. 

*  You  were  taking  advantage  of  my  vast  experience  in 
such  matters  to  learn  how  a  man  proposes  to  an  eligible 
widow  of  great  personal  attractions.' 

'  Your  advice  can't  be  very  valuable,  since  you  always 
refused  the  others.' 

'  I  didn't  indeed,'  she  replied  promptly.  '  I  made  a 
point  of  accepting  them  all/ 

'  That  at  all  events  is  encouraging/ 

'  Of  course  you  may  do  it  in  your  own  way  if  yon 
choose.  But  I  must  have  a  proposal  in  due  form/ 

( My  intelligence  may  be  limited,  but  it  seems  to 
me  that  only  four  words  are  needed/  He  counted  them 
out  deliberately  on  his  fingers.  *  Will — you — marry 
—me?' 

'  That  is  both  clear  and  simple/  She  pressed  back 
the  thumb  which  he  had  left  untouched.  '  I  reply  in 
one :  no/ 

He  looked  at  her  with  every  sign  of  astonishment. 

'  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  '  he  said. 


THE    EXPLORER  259 

*  You  heard  quite  correctly,'  she  smiled.    '  The  reply 
is  in  the  negative.' 

She  resisted  a  mad,  but  inconvenient,  temptation  to 
dance  a  breakdown  on  the  floor  of  the  hansom. 

'  You're  joking/  said  Dick  calmly.  *  You're  cer- 
tainly joking.' 

'  I  will  be  a  sister  to  you.' 

Dick  reflected  for  a  moment,  and  he  rubbed  his  chin. 

'The  chance  will  never  recur,  you  know,'  he  re- 
marked. 

*  I  will  bear  the  threat  that  is  implied  in  that  with 
fortitude/ 

He  turned  round  and  taking  her  hand,  raised  it  to 
his  lips. 

'  I  thank  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart/  he  said 
earnestly. 

This  puzzled  her. 

'  The  man's  mad/  she  murmured  to  a  constable  who 
stood  on  the  curb  as  they  passed.  '  The  man's  nothing 
short  of  a  raving  lunatic.' 

1  It  is  one  of  my  most  cherished  convictions  that  a 
really  nice  woman  is  never  so  cruel  as  to  marry  a  man 
she  cares  for.  You  have  given  me  proof  of  esteem 
which  I  promise  I  will  never  forget.' 

Mrs.  Crowley  could  not  help  laughing. 

'  You're  much  too  flippant  to  marry  anybody,  and 
you're  perfectly  odious  into  the  bargain.' 

' 1  will  be  a  brother  to  you,  Mrs.  Crowley.' 

He  opened  the  trap  and  told  the  cabman  to  drive 
back  to  Victoria  Street,  but  at  Hyde  Park  Corner  he 
suggested  that  Mrs.  Crowley  might  drop  him  so  that  he 
could  take  a  stroll  in  the  park.  When  he  got  out  and 
closed  th«  doorg  behind  him,  Julia  leaned  forward. 


260  THE    EXPLORER 

*  Would  you  like  some  letters  of  introduction  before 
you  go  ?  '  she  said. 

'What  for?' 

'  It  is  evident  that  unless  your  soul  is  dead  to  all 
the  finer  feelings,  you  will  seek  to  assuage  your  sorrow 
by  shooting  grizzlies  in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  I 
thought  a  few  letters  to  my  friends  in  New  York  might 
be  useful  to  you/ 

'  I'm  sure  that's  very  considerate  of  you,  but  I  fancy 
it's  scarcely  the  proper  season.  I  was  thinking  of  a 
week  in  Paris.' 

'  Then  pray  send  me  a  dozen  pairs  of  black  suede 
gloves/  she  retorted  coolly.  '  Sixes.' 

'  Is  that  your  last  word  ? '  he  asked  lightly. 

'Yes,  why?' 

'  I  thought  you  might  mean  six  and  a  half.' 

He  lifted  his  hat  and  was  gone. 


XIX 

A  FEW  days  later,  Lady  Kelsey  and  Lucy  having  gone 
on  the  river,  Julia  Crowley  went  to  Court  Leys.  When 
she  came  down  to  breakfast  the  day  after  her  arrival, 
she  found  waiting  for  her  six  pairs  of  long  suede  gloves. 
She  examined  their  size  and  their  quality,  smiled  with 
amusement,  and  felt  a  little  annoyed.  She  really  had 
every  intention  of  accepting  Dick  when  he  proposed  to 
her,  and  she  did  not  in  the  least  know  why  she  had 
refused  him.  The  conversation  had  carried  her  away 
in  her  own  despite.  She  loved  a  repartee  and  notwith- 
standing the  consequences  could  never  resist  making 
any  that  occurred  to  her.  It  was  very  stupid  of  Dick 
to  take  her  so  seriously,  and  she  was  inclined  to  be 
cross  with  him.  Of  course  he  had  only  gone  to  Paris 
to  tease,  and  in  a  week  he  would  be  back  again.  She 
knew  that  he  was  just  as  much  in  love  with  her  as 
she  was  with  him,  and  it  was  absurd  of  him  to  put  on 
airs.  She  awaited  the  post  each  day  impatiently,  for 
she  constantly  expected  a  letter  from  him  to  say  he 
was  coming  down  to  luncheon.  She  made  up  her  mind 
about  the  menu  of  the  pleasant  little  meal  she  would 
set  before  him,  and  in  imagination  rehearsed  the  scene 
in  which  she  would  at  length  succumb  to  his  passionate 
entreaties.  It  was  evidently  discreet  not  to  surrender 
with  unbecoming  eagerness.  But  no  letter  came.  A 
week  went  by.  She  began  to  think  that  Dick  had  no 
sense  of  humour.  A  second  week  passed,  and  then  a 
third.  Perhaps  it  was  because  she  had  nothing  to  do 


262  THE    EXPLORER 

that  Master  Dick  absorbed  a  quite  unmerited  degree 
of  her  attention.  It  was  very  inconvenient  and  very 
absurd.  She  tormented  herself  with  all  sorts  of  rea- 
sons to  explain  his  absence,  and  once  or  twice,  like  the 
spoiled  child  she  was,  she  cried.  But  Mrs.  Crowley 
was  a  sensible  woman  and  soon  made  up  her  mind  that 
if  she  could  not  live  without  the  man — though  heaven 
only  knew  why  she  wanted  him — she  had  better  take 
steps  to  secure  his  presence.  It  was  the  end  of  August 
now,  and  she  was  bored  and  lonely.  She  sent  him  a 
very  untruthful  telegram. 

I  have  to  be  in  town  on  Friday  to  see  my  lawyer, 
May  I  come  to  tea  at  five?  Julia. 

His  answer  did  not  arrive  for  twenty-four  hours, 
and  then  it  was  addressed  from  Homburg. 

Regret  immensely,  but  shall  be  away. 

Richard  Lomas. 

Julia  stamped  her  tiny  foot  with  indignation  and 
laughed  with  amusement  at  her  own  anger.  It  was 
monstrous  that  while  she  was  leading  the  dullest  ex- 
istence imaginable,  he  should  be  enjoying  the  gaieties 
of  a  fashionable  watering-place.  She  telegraphed  once 
more. 

Thanks  very  much.  Shall  expect  to  see  you  on> 
Friday.  Julia. 

She  travelled  up  to  town  on  the  appointed  day  and 
went  to  her  house  in  Norfolk  Street  to  see  that  the 
journey  had  left  no  traces  on  her  appearance.  May- 


THE    EXPLORER  263 

fair  seemed  quite  deserted,  and  half  the  windows  were 
covered  with  newspapers  to  keep  out  the  dust.  It  was 
very  hot,  and  the  sun  beat  down  from  a  cloudless  sky. 
The  pavements  were  white  and  dazzling.  Julia  realised 
with  pleasure  that  she  was  the  only  cool  person  in 
London,  and  the  lassitude  she  saw  in  the  passers-by 
added  to  her  own  self-satisfaction.  The  month  at  the 
seaside  had  given  an  added  freshness  to  her  perfection, 
and  her  charming  gown  had  a  breezy  lightness  that 
must  be  very  grateful  to  a  gentleman  of  forty  lately 
returned  from  foreign  parts.  As  she  looked  at  her- 
self in  the  glass,  Mrs.  Crowley  reflected  that  she  did 
not  know  anyone  who  had  a  figure  half  so  good  as  hers. 

When  she  drove  up  to  Dick's  house,  she  noticed  that 
there  were  fresh  flowers  in  the  window  boxes,  and  when 
she  was  shown  into  his  drawing-room,  the  first  thing 
that  struck  her  was  the  scent  of  red  roses  which  were 
in  masses  everywhere.  The  blinds  were  down,  and 
after  the  baking  street  the  dark  coolness  of  the  room 
was  very  pleasant.  The  tea  was  on  a  little  table,  wait- 
ing to  be  poured  out.  Dick  of  course  was  there  to 
receive  her.  As  she  shook  hands  with  him,  she  smoth- 
ered a  little  titter  of  wild  excitement. 

'  So  you've  come  back/  she  said. 

'  I  was  just  passing  through  town,'  he  answered,  with 
an  airy  wave  of  the  hand. 

*  From  where  to  where  ?  ' 

'  From  Homburg  to  the  Italian  Lakes.' 

'  Rather  out  of  your  way,  isn't  it  ? '  she  smiled. 

'  Not  at  all,'  he  replied.  '  If  I  were  going  from 
Manchester  to  Liverpool,  I  should  break  the  journey 
in  London.  That's  one  of  my  hobbies.' 

Julia  laughed  gaily,  and  as  they  both  made  a  capital 


264  THE   EXPLORER 

tea,  they  talked  of  all  manner  of  trivial  things.  They 
were  absurdly  glad  to  see  one  another  again,  and  each 
was  ready  to  be  amused  at  everything  the  other  said. 
But  the  conversation  would  have  been  unintelligible 
to  a  listener,  since  they  mostly  talked  together,  and 
every  now  and  then  made  a  little  scene  when  one  in- 
sisted that  the  other  should  listen  to  what  he  was 
saying. 

Suddenly  Mrs.  Crowley  threw  up  her  hands  with  a 
gesture  of  dismay. 

'  Oh,  how  stupid  of  me ! '  she  cried.  '  I  quite  forgot 
to  tell  you  why  I  telegraphed  to  you  the  other  day.' 

i  I  know,'  he  retorted. 

'  Do  you  ?    Why  ?  ' 

'  Because  you're  the  most  disgraceful  flirt  I  ever  saw 
in  my  life,'  he  answered  promptly. 

She  opened  her  eyes  wide  with  a  very  good  imitation 
of  complete  amazement. 

'  My  dear  Mr.  Lomas,  have  you  never  contemplated 
yourself  in  a  looking-glass?' 

'  You're  not  a  bit  repentant  of  the  havoc  you  have 
wrought,'  he  cried  dramatically. 

She  did  not  answer,  but  looked  at  him  with  a  smile 
BO  entirely  delightful  that  he  cried  out  irritably: 

'  I  wish  you  wouldn't  look  like  that.' 

'  How  am  I  looking  ?  '  she  smiled. 

'  To  my  innocent  and  inexperienced  gaze  very  much 
as  if  you  wanted  to  be  kissed.' 

'  You  brute ! '  she  cried.  '  I'll  never  speak  to  you 
again.' 

'Why  do  you  make  such  rash  statements?  You 
know  you  couldn't  hold  you  tongue  for  two  minutes 
together/ 


THE    EXPLORER  265 

'  What  a  libel !  I  never  can  get  a  word  in  edgeways 
when  I'm  with  you,'  she  returned.  '  You're  such  a 
chatterbox.' 

'  I  don't  know  why  you  put  on  that  aggrieved  air. 
You  seem  to  forget  that  it's  I  who  ought  to  be 
furious.' 

'  On  the  contrary,  you  behaved  very  unkindly  to  me 
a  month  ago,  and  I'm  only  here  to-day  because  I  have 
a  Christian  disposition.' 

'  You  forget  that  for  the  last  four  weeks  I've  been 
laboriously  piecing  together  the  fragments  of  a  broken 
heart,'  he  answered. 

'  It  was  entirely  your  fault,'  she  laughed.  '  If  you 
hadn't  been  so  certain  I  was  going  to  accept  you,  I 
should  never  have  refused.  I  couldn't  resist  the  tempta- 
tion of  saying  no,  just  to  see  how  you  took  it.' 

'  I  flatter  myself  I  took  it  very  well/ 

4  You  didn't,'  she  answered.  '  You  showed  an  entire 
lack  of  humour.  You  might  have  known  that  a  nice 
woman  doesn't  accept  a  man  the  first  time  he  asks 
her.  It  was  very  silly  of  you  to  go  to  Homburg  as  if 
you  didn't  care.  How  was  I  to  know  that  you  meant 
to  wait  a  month  before  asking  me  again  ? ' 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  calmly. 

'I  haven't  the  least  intention  of  asking  you  again/ 

But  it  required  much  more  than  this  to  put  Julia 
Crowley  out  of  countenance. 

'  Then  why  on  earth  did  you  invite  me  to  tea? ' 

'May  I  respectfully  remind  you  that  you  invited 
yourself  ?  '  he  protested. 

'  That's  just  like  a  man.  He  will  go  into  irrelevant 
details,'  she  answered. 

*  Now,  don't  be  cross/  he  smiled. 


266  THE    EXPLORER 

*  I  shall  be  cross  if  I  want  to/  she  exclaimed,  with  a 
little  stamp  of  her  foot.    '  You're  not  being  at  all  nice 
to  me.' 

He  looked  at  her  thoughtfully  for  a  moment,  and  his 
eyes  twinkled. 

*  Do  you  know  what  I'd  do  if  I  were  you  ? ' 
'No,  what?' 

'  Well,  /  can't  suffer  the  humiliation  of  another  re- 
fusal. Why  don't  you  propose  to  me  ? ' 

'  What  cheek ! '  she  cried. 

Their  eyes  met,  and  she  smiled. 

'  What  will  you  say  if  I  do  ?  ' 

'  That  entirely  depends  on  how  you  do  it.' 

'  I  don't  know  how,'  she  murmured  plaintively. 

'  Yes,  you  do/  he  insisted.  e  You  gave  me  an  ad- 
mirable lesson.  First  you  go  on  your  bended  knees, 
and  then  you  say  you're  quite  unworthy  of  me.' 

'  You  are  the  most  spiteful  creature  I've  ever  known/ 
she  laughed.  '  You're  just  the  sort  of  man  who'd 
beat  his  wife.' 

'  Every  Saturday  night  regularly/  he  agreed. 

She  hesitated,  looking  at  him. 

'  Well?  'he  said. 

'  I  shan't/  she  answered. 

'  Then  I  shall  continue  to  be  a  brother  to  you.' 

She  got  up  and  curtsied. 

'Mr.  Lomas,  I  am  a  widow,  twenty-nine  years  of 
age,  and  extremely  eligible.  My  maid  is  a  treasure,  and 
my  dressmaker  is  charming.  I'm  clever  enough  to 
laugh  at  your  jokes  and  not  so  learned  as  to  know  whera 
they  come  from.' 

'  Really  you're  very  long  winded.  I  said  it  all  in 
four  words.' 


THE    EXPLORER  267 

'  You  evidently  put  it  too  briefly,  since  you  were  re- 
fused/ she  smiled. 

She  stretched  out  her  hands,  and  he  took  them. 

1 1  think  I'll  do  it  by  post,'  she  said.  *  It'll  sound  so 
much  more  becoming.' 

'  You'd  better  get  it  over  now/ 

'  You  know,  I  don't  really  want  to  marry  you  a  bit. 
I'm  only  doing  it  to  please  you/ 

( I  admire  your  unselfishness/ 

1  You  will  say  yes  if  I  ask  you  ? ' 

' I  refuse  to  commit  myself/ 

'  Obstinate  beast/  she  cried. 

She  curtsied  once  more,  as  well  as  she  could  since 
he  was  firmly  holding  her  hands. 

'  Sir,  I  have  the  honour  to  demand  your  hand  in 
marriage/ 

He  bowed  elaborately. 

'  Madam,  I  have  much  pleasure  in  acceding  to  your 
request/ 

Then  he  drew  her  towards  him  and  put  his  arms 
around  her. 

( I  never  saw  anyone  make  such  a  fuss  about  so  in- 
significant a  detail  as  marriage/  she  murmured. 

'  You  have  the  softest  lips  I  ever  kissed/  he  said. 

'  I  wish  to  goodness  you'd  be  serious/  she  laughed. 
f  I've  got  something  very  important  to  say  to  you/ 

'  You're  not  going  to  tell  me  the  story  of  your  past 
life/  he  cried. 

'  No,  I  was  thinking  of  my  engagement  ring.  I  make 
a  point  of  having  a  cabochon  emerald :  I  collect  them/ 

1  No  sooner  said  than  done/  he  cried. 

He  took  a  ring  from  his  pocket  and  slipped  it  on  her 
finger.  She  looked  from  it  to  him. 


268  THE    EXPLORER 

'You  see,  I  know  that  you  made  a  specialty  of  em- 
eralds.' 

'  Then  you  meant  to  ask  me  all  the  time  ? ' 

'  I  confess  it  to  my  shame :    I  did/  he  laughed. 

'  Oh,  I  wish  I'd  known  that  before.' 

'  What  would  you  have  done  ?  ' 

'  I'd  have  refused  you  again,  you  silly/ 

Dick  Lomas  and  Mrs.  Crowley  said  nothing  about 
their  engagement  to  anyone,  since  it  seemed  to  both 
that  the  marriage  of  a  middle-aged  gentleman  and  a 
widow  of  uncertain  years  could  concern  no  one  but 
themselves.  The  ceremony  was  duly  performed  in  a 
deserted  church  on  a  warm  September  day,  when  there 
was  not  a  soul  in  London.  Mrs.  Crowley  was  given 
away  by  her  solicitor,  and  the  verger  signed  the  book. 
The  happy  pair  went  to  Court  Leys  for  a  fortnight's 
honeymoon  and  at  the  beginning  of  October  returned 
to  London;  they  made  up  their  minds  that  they  would 
go  to  America  later  in  the  autumn. 

'  I  want  to  show  you  off  to  all  my  friends  in  New 
York,'  said  Julia,  gaily. 

'  Do  you  think  they'll  like  me? '  asked  Dick. 

'  Not  at  all.  They'll  say:  That  silly  little  fool  Julia 
Crowley  has  married  another  beastly  Britisher.' 

'  That  is  more  alliterative  than  polite,'  he  retorted. 
*  On  the  other  hand  my  friends  and  relations  are  already 
saying:  What  on  earth  has  poor  Dick  Lomas  married 
an  American  for?  We  always  thought  he  was  very 
well-to-do/ 

They  went  into  roars  of  laughter,  for  they  were  in 
that  state  of  happiness  when  the  whole  world  seemed 
the  best  of  jokes,  and  they  spent  their  days  in  laugh- 


THE    EXPLORER  269 

ing  at  one  another  and  at  things  in  general.  Life  was 
a  pleasant  thing,  and  they  could  not  imagine  why  others 
should  not  take  it  as  easily  as  themselves. 

They  had  engaged  rooms  at  the  Carlton  while  they 
were  furnishing  a  new  house.  Each  had  one  already, 
but  neither  would  live  in  the  other's,  and  so  it  had 
seemed  necessary  to  look  out  for  a  third.  Julia  vowed 
that  there  was  an  air  of  bachelordom  about  Dick's 
house  which  made  it  impossible  for  a  married  woman 
to  inhabit;  and  Dick,  on  his  side,  refused  to  move  into 
Julia's  establishment  in  Norfolk  Street,  since  it  gave 
him  the  sensation  of  being  a  fortune-hunter  living  on 
his  wife's  income.  Besides,  a  new  house  gave  an  oppor- 
tunity for  extravagance  which  delighted  both  of  them 
since  they  realised  perfectly  that  the  only  advantage  of 
having  plenty  of  money  was  to  spend  it  in  unneccessary 
ways.  They  were  a  pair  of  light-hearted  children,  who 
refused  firmly  to  consider  the  fact  that  they  were  more 
than  twenty-five. 

Lady  Kelsey  and  Lucy  had  gone  from  the  Eiver  to 
Spa,  for  the  elder  woman's  health,  and  on  their  return 
Julia  went  to  see  them  in  order  to  receive  their  con- 
gratulations and  display  her  extreme  happiness.  She 
came  back  thoughtfully.  When  she  sat  down  to  luncheon 
with  Dick  in  their  sitting-room  at  the  hotel,  he  saw  that 
she  was  distubed.  He  asked  her  what  was  the  matter. 

'  Lucy  has  broken  off  her  engagement  with  Eobert 
Boulger,'  she  said. 

'  That  young  woman  seems  to  make  a  speciality  of 
breaking  her  engagements,'  he  answered  drily. 

*  I'm  afraid  she's  still  in  love  with  Alec  MacKenzie.' 

*  Then  why  on  earth  did  she  accept  Bobbie  ?  ' 

'  My  dpir  Hoy,  she  only  took  him  in  a  fit  of  temper. 


270  THE    EXPLORER 

When  that  had  cooled  down  she  very  wisely  thought 
better  of  it.' 

'  I  can  never  sufficiently  admire  the  reasonableness 
of  your  sex/  said  Dick,  ironically. 

Julia  shrugged  her  pretty  shoulders. 

'  Half  the  women  I  know  merely  married  their  hus- 
bands to  spite  somebody  else.  I  assure  you  it's  one  of 
the  commonest  causes  of  matrimony.' 

1  Then  heaven  save  me  from  matrimony/  cried  Dick. 

'  It  hasn't/  she  laughed. 

But  immediately  she  grew  serious  once  more. 

'  Mr.  MacKenzie  was  in  Brussels  while  they  were 
in  Spa.' 

*  I  had  a  letter  from  him  this  morning.' 

'  Lady  Kelsey  says  that  according  to  the  papers  he's 
going  to  Africa  again.  I  think  it's  that  which  has 
upset  Lucy.  They  made  a  great  fuss  about  him  in 
Brussels.' 

'  Yes,  he  tells  me  that  everything  is  fixed  up,  and  he 
proposes  to  start  quite  shortly.  He's  going  to  do  some 
work  in  the  Congo  Free  State.  They  want  to  find 
a  new  waterway,  and  the  King  of  the  Belgians  has 
given  him  a  free  hand.' 

*  I  suppose  the  King  of  the  Belgians  looks  upon  one 
atrocity  more  or  less  with  equanimity/  said  Julia. 

They  were  silent  for  a  minute  or  two,  while  each  was 
occupied  with  his  own  thoughts. 

*  You  saw  him  after  Lucy  broke  off  the  engagement/ 
said  Julia,  presently.    '  Was  he  very  wretched  ?  ' 

'  He  never  said  a  word.  I  wanted  to  comfort  him, 
but  he  never  gave  me  a  chance.  He  never  even  men- 
tioned Lucy's  name.' 


THE    EXPLORER  271 

'  Did  he  seem  unhappy  ?  ' 

'  No.  He  was  just  the  same  as  ever,  impassive  and 
collected.' 

'  Really,  he's  inhuman/  exclaimed  Julia  impatiently. 

'  He's  an  anomaly  in  this  juvenile  century,'  Dick 
agreed.  '  He's  an  ancient  Roman  who  buys  his  clothes 
in  S  a  vile  Row.' 

'  Then  he's  very  much  in  the  way  in  England,  and 
it's  much  better  that  he  should  go  back  to  Africa.' 

*  I  suppose  it  is.  Here  he  reminds  one  of  an  eagle 
caged  with  a  colony  of  canaries.' 

Julia  looked  at  her  husband  reflectively. 

'  I  think  you're  the  only  friend  who  has  stuck  to 
him,'  she  said. 

'  I  wouldn't  put  it  in  that  way.  After  all,  I'm  the 
only  friend  he  ever  had.  It  was  not  unnatural  that  a 
number  of  acquaintances  should  drop  him  when  he 
got  into  hot  water.' 

'  It  must  have  been  a  great  help  to  find  someone 
who  believed  in  him  notwithstanding  everything.' 

'  I'm  afraid  it  sounds  very  immoral,  but  whatever 
his  crimes  were,  I  should  never  like  Alec  less.  You 
see,  he's  been  so  awfully  good  and  kind  to  me,  I  can 
look  on  with  fortitude  while  he  plays  football  with  the 
Ten  Commandments.' 

Julia's  emotions  were  always  sudden,  and  the  tears 
came  to  her  eyes  as  she  answered. 

1  I'm  really  beginning  to  think  you  a  perfect  angel, 
Dick.' 

' Don't  say  that,'  he  retorted  quickly.  'It  makes 
me  feel  so  middle-aged.  *  I'd  much  sooner  be  a  young 
•inner  than  an  elderly  cherub.' 


272  THE   EXPLORER 

Smiling,  she  stretched  out  her  hand,  and  he  held  it 
for  a  moment. 

'  You  know,  though  I  can't  help  liking  you,  I  don't 
in  the  least  approve  of  you.' 

f  Good  heavens,  why  not  ?  '  he  cried. 

*  Well,  I  was  brought  up  to  believe  that  a  man  should 
work,  and  you're  disgracefully  idle.' 

*  Good  heavens,  to  marry  an  American  wife  is  the 
most  arduous  profession  in  the  world,'  he  cried.    '  One 
has  to  combine  the  energy  of  the  Universal  Provider 
with  the  patience  of  an  ambassador  at  the  Sublime 
Porte/ 

(  You  foolish  creature/  she  laughed. 

But  her  thoughts  immediately  reverted  to  Lucy.  Her 
pallid,  melancholy  face  still  lingered  in  Julia's  memory, 
and  her  heart  was  touched  by  the  hopeless  woe  that 
dwelt  in  her  beautiful  eyes. 

'  I  suppose  there's  no  doubt  that  those  stories  about 
Alec  MacKenzie  were  true  ? '  she  said,  thoughtfully. 

Dick  gave  her  a  quick  glance.  He  wondered  what 
was  in  her  mind. 

*  I'll  tell  you  what  I  think/  he  said.    '  Anyone  who 
knows  Alec  as  well  as  I  do  must  be  convinced  that  he  did 
nothing  from  motives  that  were  mean  and  paltry.     To 
accuse  him  of  cowardice  is  absurd — he's  the  bravest 
man  I've  ever  known — and  it's  equally  absurd  to  ac- 
cuse   him    of    weakness.     But    what    I    do    think    is 
this:    Alec  is  not  the  man  to  stick  at  half  measures, 
and  he's  taken  desperately  to  heart  the  maxim  which 
says  that  he  who  desires  an  end  desires  the  means  also. 
I  think  he  might  be  very  ruthless,  and  on  occasion  he 
might  be  stern  to  the  verge  of  brutality.    Reading  be- 
tween the  lines  of  those  letters  that  Macinnery  sent 


THE    EXPLORER  273 

to  the  Daily  Mail,  I  have  wondered  if  Alec,  finding 
that  someone  must  be  sacrificed,  didn't  deliberately 
choose  George  Allerton  because  he  was  the  least  useful 
to  him  and  could  be  best  spared.  Even  in  small  under- 
takings like  that  there  must  be  some  men  who  are  only 
food  for  powder.  If  Alec  had  found  George  worthless 
to  him,  no  consideration  for  Lucy  would  have  prevented 
him  from  sacrificing  him/ 

( If  that  were  so  why  didn't  he  say  it  outright  ? ' 

(  Do  you  think  it  would  have  made  things  any  bet- 
ter? The  British  public  is  sentimental;  they  will  not 
understand  that  in  warfare  it  is  necessary  sometimes 
to  be  inhuman.  And  how  would  it  have  served  him  with 
Lucy  if  he  had  confessed  that  he  had  used  George  cal- 
lously as  a  pawn  in  his  game  that  must  be  sacrificed 
to  win  some  greater  advantage  ?  ' 

1  It's  all  very  horrible,'  shuddered  Julia. 

'  And  so  far  as  the  public  goes,  events  have  shown 
that  he  was  right  to  keep  silence.  The  agitation  against 
him  died  down  for  want  of  matter,  and  though  he  is 
vaguely  discredited,  nothing  is  proved  definitely  against 
him.  Public  opinion  is  very  fickle,  and  already  people 
are  beginning  to  forget,  and  as  they  forget  they  will 
think  they  have  misjudged  him.  When  it  is  announced 
that  he  has  given  his  services  to  the  King  of  the  Bel- 
gians, ten  to  one  there  will  be  a  reaction  in  his  favour.' 

They  got  up  from  luncheon,  and  coffee  was  served 
to  them.  They  lit  their  cigarettes.  For  some  time 
they  were  silent. 

'  Lucy  wants  to  see  him  before  he  goes,'  said  Julia 
suddenly. 

Dick  looked  at  her  and  gave  an  impatient  shrug  of 
the  shoulders. 

18 


274  THE    EXPLORER 

'  I  suppose  she  wants  to  indulge  a  truly  feminine 
passion  for  making  scenes.  She's  made  Alec  quite 
wretched  enough  already.' 

'  Don't  be  unkind  to  her,  Dick,'  said  Julia,  tears 
welling  up  in  her  bright  eyes.  'You  don't  know  how 
desperately  unhappy  she  is.  My  heart  bled  to  see  her 
this  morning/ 

1  Darling,  I'll  do  whatever  you  want  me  to,'  he  said, 
leaning  over  her. 

Julia's  sense  of  the  ridiculous  was  always  next  door 
to  her  sense  of  the  pathetic. 

'  I  don't  know  why  you  should  kiss  me  because  Lucy's 
utterly  miserable,'  she  said,  with  a  little  laugh. 

And  then,  gravely,  as  she  nestled  in  his  encircling 
arm: 

*  Will  you  try  and  manage  it  ?  She  hesitates  to  write 
to  him.' 

'  I'm  not  sure  if  I  had  not  better  leave  you  to  impart 
the  pleasing  information  yourself,'  he  replied.  '  I've 
asked  Alec  to  come  here  this  afternoon.' 

'  You're  a  selfish  beast,'  she  answered.  '  But  in  that 
case  you  must  leave  me  alone  with  him,  because  I 
shall  probably  weep  gallons  of  tears,  and  you'll  only 
snigger  at  me.' 

'  Bless  your  little  heart !  Let  us  put  handkerchiefs 
in  every  conceivable  place.' 

'  On  occasions  like  this  I  carry  a  bagful  about  with 
me/ 


XX 


IN  the  afternoon  Alec  arrived.  Julia's  tender  heart 
was  touched  by  the  change  wrought  in  him  during  the 
three  months  of  his  absence  from  town.  At  the  first 
glance  there  was  little  difference  in  him.  He  was  still 
cool  and  collected,  with  that  air  of  expecting  people  to 
do  his  bidding  which  had  always  impressed  her;  and 
there  was  still  about  him  a  sensation  of  strength,  which 
was  very  comfortable  to  weaker  vessels.  But  her  sharp 
eyes  saw  that  he  held  himself  together  by  an  effort  of 
will,  and  it  was  singularly  painful  to  the  onlooker. 
The  strain  had  told  on  him,  and  there  was  in  his  hag- 
gard eyes,  in  the  deliberate  firmness  of  his  mouth,  a 
tension  which  suggested  that  he  was  almost  at  the  end 
of  his  tether.  He  was  sterner  than  before  and  more 
silent.  Julia  could  see  how  deeply  he  had  suffered,  and 
his  suffering  had  been  greater  because  of  his  determ- 
ination to  conquer  it  at  all  costs.  She  longed  to  go 
to  him  and  beg  him  not  to  be  too  hard  upon  himself. 
Things  would  have  gone  more  easily  with  him,  if  he 
had  allowed  himself  a  little  weakness.  But  he  was 
softer  too,  and  she  no  longer  felt  the  slight  awe  which 
to  her  till  then  had  often  made  intercourse  difficult. 
His  first  words  were  full  of  an  unexpected  kindness. 
'  I'm  so  glad  to  be  able  to  congratulate  you,'  he  said, 
holding  her  hand  and  smiling  with  that  rare,  sweet 
smile  of  his.  '  I  was  a  little  unhappy  at  leaving  Dick ; 
but  now  I  leave  him  in  your  hands  I'm  perfectly  con- 
fTI 


276  THE   EXPLORER 

tent.  He's  the  dearest,  kindest  old  chap  I've  ever 
known.' 

f  Shut  up,  Alec/  cried  Dick  promptly.  '  Don't  play 
the  heavy  father,  or  Julia  will  burst  into  tears.  She 
loves  having  a  good  cry.' 

But  Alec  ignored  the  interruption. 

'  He'll  be  an  admirable  husband  because  he's  been  an 
admirable  friend.' 

For  the  first  time  Julia  thought  Alec  altogether 
wise  and  charming. 

'  I  know  he  will,'  she  answered  happily.  '  And  I'm 
only  prevented  from  saying  all  I  think  of  him  by  the 
fear  that  he'll  become  perfectly  unmanageable/ 

'  Spare  me  the  chaste  blushes  which  mantle  my 
youthful  brow,  and  pour  out  the  tea,  Julia,'  said 
Dick. 

She  laughed  and  proceeded  to  do  as  he  requested. 

' And  are  you  really  starting  for  Africa  so  soon  ? ' 
Julia  asked,  when  they  were  settled  around  the  tea- 
table. 

Alec  threw  back  his  head,  and  his  face  lit  up. 

'  I  am.  Everything  is  fixed  up ;  the  bother  of  col- 
lecting supplies  and  getting  porters  has  been  taken 
off  my  shoulders,  and  all  I  have  to  do  is  to  get  along 
as  quickly  as  possible.' 

'  I  wish  to  goodness  you'd  give  up  these  horrible  ex- 
plorations,' cried  Dick.  '  They  make  the  rest  of  us  feel 
so  abominably  unadventurous.' 

'But  they're  the  very  breath  of  my  nostrils,'  an- 
swered Alec.  *  You  don't  know  the  exhilaration  of 
the  daily  dangers,  the  joy  of  treading  where  only  the 
wild  beasts  have  trodden  before.' 

'  I  f/eely  confess  that  I  don't  want  to/  said  Dick. 


THE    EXPLORER  277 

Alec  sprang  up  and  stretched  his  legs.  As  he  spoke 
all  signs  of  lassitude  disappeared,  and  he  was  seized 
with  an  excitement  that  was  rarely  seen  in  him. 

'  Already  I  can  hardly  bear  my  impatience  when  I 
think  of  the  boundless  country  and  the  enchanting 
freedom.  Here  one  grows  so  small,  so  mean;  but  in 
Africa  everything  is  built  to  a  nobler  standard.  There 
the  man  is  really  a  man.  There  one  knows  what  are 
will  and  strength  and  courage.  You  don't  know  what 
it  is  to  stand  on  the  edge  of  some  great  plain  and 
breathe  the  pure  keen  air  after  the  terrors  of  the 
forest/ 

'  The  boundless  plain  of  Hyde  Park  is  enough  for 
me/  said  Dick.  '  And  the  aspect  of  Piccadilly  on  a  fine 
day  in  June  gives  me  quite  as  many  emotions  as  I 
want.' 

But  Julia  was  moved  by  Alec's  unaccustomed  rhetoric, 
and  she  looked  at  him  earnestly. 

'  But  what  will  you  gain  by  it  now  that  your  work  is 
over — by  all  the  danger  and  all  the  hardships  ? ' 

He  turned  his  dark,  solemn  eyes  upon  her. 

'  Nothing.  I  want  to  gain  nothing.  Perhaps  I  shall 
discover  some  new  species  of  antelope  or  some  unknown 
plant.  I  may  be  fortunate  enough  to  find  a  new  water- 
way. That  is  all  the  reward  I  want.  I  love  the  sense 
of  power  and  the  mastery.  What  do  you  think  I  care 
for  the  tinsel  rewards  of  kings  and  peoples ! ' 

'  I  always  said  you  were  melodramatic,'  said  Dick. 
'  I  never  heard  anything  so  transpontine/ 

'  And  the  end  of  it  ? '  asked  Julia,  almost  in  a  whis- 
per. '  What  will  be  the  end  ?  ' 

A  faint  smile  played  for  an  instant  upon  Alec's  lips. 
He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 


278  THE    EXPLORER 

'  The  end  is  death.  But  I  shall  die  standing  up.  I 
shall  go  the  last  journey  as  I  have  gone  every  other/ 

He  stopped,  for  he  would  not  add  the  last  two  words. 
Julia  said  them  for  him. 

'Without  fear.' 

'  For  all  the  world  like  the  wicked  baronet/  cried 
the  mocking  Dick.  'Once  aboard  the  lugger,  and  the 
gurl  is  mine.' 

Julia  reflected  for  a  little  while.  She  did  not  want 
to  resist  the  admiration  with  which  Alec  filled  her. 
But  she  shuddered.  He  did  not  seem  to  fit  in  with  the 
generality  of  men. 

'  Don't  you  want  people  to  remember  you  ? '  she 
asked. 

'  Perhaps  they  will,'  he  answered  slowly.  '  Perhaps 
in  a  hundred  years,  in  some  flourishing  town  where  I 
discovered  nothing  but  wilderness,  tliey  will  commis- 
sion a  second-rate  sculptor  to  make  a  fancy  statue  of 
me.  And  I  shall  stand  in  front  of  the  Stock  Exchange, 
a  convenient  perch  for  birds,  to  look  eternally  upon 
the  shabby  deeds  of  human  kind.' 

He  gave  a  short,  abrupt  laugh,  and  his  words  were 
followed  by  silence.  Julia  gave  Dick  a  glance  which 
he  took  to  be  a  signal  that  she  wished  to  be  alone 
with  Alec. 

'Forgive  me  if  I  leave  you  for  one  minute,'  he 
said. 

He  got  up  and  left  the  room.  The  silence  still  con- 
tinued, and  Alec  seemed  immersed  in  thought.  At 
last  Julia  answered  him. 

'  And  is  that  really  all  ?  I  can't  help  thinking  that 
at  the  bottom  of  your  heart  there  is  something  that 
you've  never  told  to  a  living  soul.' 


THE    EXPLORER  279 

He  looked  at  her,  and  their  eyes  met.  He  felt  sud- 
denly her  extraordinary  sympathy  and  her  passionate 
desire  to  help  him.  And  as  though  the  bonds  of  the 
flesh  were  loosened,  it  seemed  to  him  that  their  very 
souls  faced  one  another.  The  reserve  which  was  his 
dearest  habit  fell  away  from  him,  and  he  felt  an 
urgent  desire  to  say  that  which  a  curious  delicacy  had 
prevented  him  from  every  betraying  to  callous  ears. 

'  I  daresay  I  shall  never  see  you  again,  and  perhaps 
it  doesn't  much  matter  what  I  say  to  you.  You'll 
think  me  very  silly,  but  I'm  afraid  I'm  rather — pa- 
triotic. It's  only  we  who  live  away  from  England  who 
really  love  it.  I'm  so  proud  of  my  country,  and  I 
wanted  so  much  to  do  something  for  it.  Often  in 
Africa  I've  thought  of  this  dear  England  and  longed 
not  to  die  till  I  had  done  my  work.' 

His  voice  shook  a  little,  and  he  paused.  It  seemed 
to  Julia  that  she  saw  the  man  for  the  first  time,  and 
she  wished  passionately  that  Lucy  could  hear  those 
words  of  his  which  he  spoke  so  shyly,  and  yet  with 
such  a  passionate  earnestness. 

*  Behind  all  the  soldiers  and  the  statesmen  whose 
fame  is  imperishable  there  is  a  long  line  of  men 
who've  built  up  the  empire  piece  by  piece.  Their 
names  are  forgotten,  and  only  students  know  their  his- 
tory, but  each  one  of  them  gave  a  province  to  his 
country.  And  I  too  have  my  place  among  them.  Year 
after  year  I  toiled,  night  and  day,  and  at  last  I  was 
able  to  hand  over  to  the  commissioner  a  broad  tract  of 
land,  rich  and  fertile.  After  my  death  England  will 
forget  my  faults  and  my  mistakes;  and  I  care  nothing 
for  the  flouts  and  gibes  with  which  she  has  repaid  all 
my  pain,  for  I  have  added  another  fair  jewel  to  her 


280  THE    EXPLORER 

frown.  I  don't  want  rewards;  I  only  want  the  honour 
of  serving  this  dear  land  of  ours.' 

Julia  went  up  to  him  and  laid  her  hand  gently  on  his 
arm. 

'  Why  is  it,  when  you're  so  nice  really,  that  you  do 
all  you  can  to  make  people  think  you  utterly  horrid  ? ' 

'Don't  laugh  at  me  because  you've  found  out  that 
at  bottom  I'm  nothing  more  than  a  sentimental  old 
woman.' 

'  I  don't  want  to  laugh  at  you.  But  if  I  didn't  think 
it  would  embarrass  you  so  dreadfully,  I  should  cer- 
tainly kiss  you.' 

He  smiled  and  lifting  her  hand  to  his  lips,  lightly 
kissed  it. 

'  I  shall  begin  to  think  I'm  a  very  wonderful  woman 
if  I've  taught  you  to  do  such  pretty  things  as  that.' 

She  made  him  sit  down,  and  then  she  sat  by  his  side. 

*  I'm  very  glad  you  came  to-day.     I  wanted  to  talk 
to  you.    Will  you  be  very  angry  if  I  say  something  to 
you?' 

'  I  don't  think  so,'  he  smiled. 

'  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about  Lucy.' 

He  drew  himself  suddenly  together,  and  the  expan- 
sion of  his  mood  disappeared.  He  was  once  more  the 
cold,  reserved  man  of  their  habitual  intercourse. 

'  I'd  rather  you  didn't,'  he  said  briefly. 

But  Julia  was  not  to  be  so  easily  put  off. 

'  What  would  you  do  if  she  came  here  to-day  ?  '  she 
asked. 

He  turned  round  and  looked  at  her  sharply,  then  an- 
swered with  great  deliberation. 

*  I  have  always  lived  in  polite  society.     I   should 
never  dream  of  outraging  its  conventions.     If  Lucy 


THE    EXPLORER  281 

happened  to  come,  you  may  be  sur«  that  I  ihould  be 
scrupulously  polite/ 

'  Is  that  all  ?  '  she  cried. 

He  did  not  answer,  and  into  his  face  came  a  wild 
fierceness  that  appalled  her.  She  saw  the  effort  he  was 
making  at  self-control.  She  wished  with  all  her  heart 
that  he  would  be  less  brave. 

'  I  think  you  might  not  be  so  hard  if  you  knew  how 
desperately  Lucy  has  suffered.' 

He  looked  at  her  again,  and  his  eyes  were  rilled  with 
bitterness,  with  angry  passion  at  the  injustice  of  fate. 
Did  she  think  that  he  had  not  suffered?  Because  he 
did  not  whine  his  misery  to  all  and  sundry,  did  she 
think  he  did  not  care?  He  sprang  up  and  walked  to 
the  other  end  of  the  room.  He  did  not  want  that 
woman,  for  all  her  kindness,  to  see  his  face.  He  was 
not  the  man  to  fall  in  and  out  of  love  with  every  pretty 
girl  he  met.  All  his  life  he  had  kept  an  ideal  before 
his  eyes.  He  turned  to  Julia  savagely. 

t  You  don't  know  what  it  meant  to  me  to  fall  in  love. 
I  felt  that  I  had  lived  all  my  life  in  a  prison,  and  at  last 
Lucy  came  and  took  me  by  the  hand,  and  led  me  out. 
And  for  the  first  time  I  breathed  the  free  air  of  heaven.' 

He  stopped  abruptly,  clenching  his  jaws.  He  would 
not  tell  her  how  bitterly  he  had  suffered  for  it,  he  would 
not  tell  her  of  his  angry  rebelliousness  because  all  that 
pain  should  have  come  to  him.  He  wanted  nobody  to 
know  the  depths  of  his  agony  and  of  his  despair.  But 
he  would  not  give  way.  He  felt  that,  if  he  did  not  keep 
a  tight  hold  on  himself,  he  would  break  down  and  shake 
with  passionate  sobbing.  He  felt  a  sudden  flash  of 
hatred  for  Julia  because  she  sat  there  and  v/atched  his 
weakness.  But  as  though  she  saw  at  what  a  crisis  of 


283  THE    EXPLORER 

emotion  he  was,  Julia  turned  her  eyes  from  him  and 
looked  down  at  the  ground.  She  did  not  speak.  She 
felt  the  effort  he  was  making  to  master  himself,  and  she 
was  infinitely  disturbed.  She  wanted  to  go  to  him  and 
comfort  him,  but  she  knew  he  would  repel  her.  He 
•wanted  to  fight  his  battle  unaided. 

At  last  he  conquered,  but  when  he  spoke  again, 
his  voice  was  singularly  broken.  It  was  hoarse  and 
low. 

'  My  love  was  the  last  human  weakness  I  had.  It  was 
right  that  I  should  drink  that  bitter  cup.  And  I've 
drunk  its  very  dregs.  I  should  have  known  that  I 
wasn't  meant  for  happiness  and  a  life  of  ease.  I  have 
other  work  to  do  in  the  world/ 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  and  his  calmness  was  re- 
stored to  him. 

'  And  now  that  I've  overcome  this  last  temptation  I 
am  ready  to  do  it.' 

'But  haven't  you  any  pity  for  yourself?  Haven't 
you  any  thought  for  Lucy  ? ' 

'  Must  I  tell  you,  too,  that  everything  I  did  was  for 
Lucy's  sake?  And  still  I  love  her  with  all  my  heart 
and  soul/ 

There  was  no  bitterness  in  his  tone  now ;  it  was  gentle 
and  resigned.  He  had,  indeed,  won  the  battle.  Julia's 
eyes  were  filled  with  tears,  and  she  could  not  answer. 
He  came  forward  and  shook  hands  with  her. 

'  You  mustn't  cry,'  he  said,  smiling.  *  You're  one  of 
those  persons  whose  part  it  is  to  bring  sunshine  into  the 
lives  of  those  with  less  fortunate  dispositions.  You 
must  always  be  happy  and  childlike.' 

'  I've  got  lots  of  handkerchiefs,  thanks,'  she  sobbed, 
laughing  the  while. 


THE    EXPLORER  283 

'  You  must  forget  all  the  nonsense  I've  talked  to  you/ 
he  said. 

He  smiled  once  more  and  was  gone. 

Dick  was  sitting  in  his  bedroom,  reading  an  evening 
paper,  and  she  flung  herself  sobbing  into  his  arms. 

'  Oh,  Dick,  I've  had  such  a  lovely  cry,  and  I'm  so 
happy  and  so  utterly  wretched.  And  I'm  sure  I  shall 
have  a  red  nose/ 

'  Darling,  I've  long  discovered  that  you  only  weep 
because  you're  the  only  person  in  the  world  to  whom 
it's  thoroughly  becoming/ 

*  Don't  be  horrid  and  unsympathetic.  I  think  Alec 
MacKenzie's  a  perfect  dear.  I  wanted  to  kiss  him,  only 
I  was  afraid  it  would  frighten  him  to  death/ 

'  I'm  glad  you  didn't.  He  would  have  thought  you 
a  forward  hussy.' 

'  I  wish  I  could  have  married  him,  too,'  cried  Julia. 
'  I'm  sure  he'd  make  a  nice  husband/ 


XXI 

THE  days  went  by,  spent  by  Alec  in  making  necessary 
preparations  for  his  journey,  spent  by  Lucy  in  sick- 
ening anxiety.  The  last  two  months  had  been  passed  by 
her  in  a  conflict  of  emotions.  Love  had  planted  itself 
in  her  heart  like  a  great  forest  tree,  and  none  of  the 
storms  that  had  assailed  it  seemed  to  have  power  to 
shake  its  stubborn  roots.  Reason,  common  decency, 
shame,  had  lost  their  power.  She  had  prayed  God  that 
a  merciful  death  might  free  her  from  the  dreadful  un- 
certainty. She  was  spiritless  and  cowed.  She  despised 
herself  for  her  weakness.  And  sometimes  she  rebelled 
against  the  fate  that  crushed  her  with  such  misfortunes ; 
she  had  tried  to  do  her  duty  always,  acting  humbly  ac- 
cording to  her  lights,  and  yet  everything  she  was  con- 
cerned in  crumbled  away  to  powder  at  her  touch.  She, 
too,  began  to  think  that  she  was  not  meant  for  happi- 
ness. She  knew  that  she  ought  to  hate  Alec,  but  she 
could  not.  She  knew  that  his  action  should  fill  her 
with  nameless  horror,  but  against  her  will  she  could 
not  believe  that  he  was  false  and  wicked.  One  thing 
she  was  determined  on,  and  that  was  to  keep  her  word 
to  Robert  Boulger;  but  he  himself  gave  her  back  her 
freedom. 

He  came  to  her  one  day,  and  after  a  little  casual  con- 
versation broke  suddenly  into  the  middle  of  things. 

'  Lucy,  I  want  to  ask  you  to  release  me  from  my  en- 
gagement to  you/  he  said. 


THE    EXPLORER  285 

Her  heart  gave  a  great  leap  against  her  breast,  and 
she  began  to  tremble.  He  went  on. 

'  I'm  ashamed  to  have  to  say  it ;  I  find  that  I  don't 
love  you  enough  to  marry  you.' 

She  looked  at  him  silently,  and  her  eyes  filled  with 
tears.  The  brutality  with  which  he  spoke  was  so  un- 
natural that  it  betrayed  the  mercifulness  of  his  in- 
tention. 

'  If  you  think  that,  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said/ 
she  answered. 

He  gave  her  a  look  of  such  bitterness  that  she  felt  it 
impossible  to  continue  a  pretence  which  deceived  neither 
of  them. 

'  I'm  unworthy  of  your  love/  she  cried.  '  I've  made 
you  desperately  wretched/ 

*  It  doesn't  matter  about  me/  he  said.  f  But  there's 
no  reason  for  you  to  be  wretched,  too/ 

'  I'm  willing  to  do  whatever  you  wish,  Bobbie/ 

'  I  can't  marry  you  simply  because  you're  sorry  for 
me.  I  thought  I  could,  but — it's  asking  too  much  of 
you.  We  had  better  say  no  more  about  it/ 

( I'm  very  sorry,'  she  whispered. 

'  You  see,  you're  still  in  love  with  Alec  MacKenzie/ 

He  said  it,  vainly  longing  for  a  denial;  but  he  knew 
in  his  heart  that  no  denial  would  come. 

'  I  always  shall  be,  notwithstanding  everything.  I 
can't  help  myself/ 

'  No,  it's  fate/ 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  with  vehement  passion. 

'  Oh,  Bobbie,  don't  you  think  there's  some  chance 
that  everything  may  be  explained  ? ' 

He  hesitated  for  a  moment.  It  was  very  difficult  ta 
answer. 


286  THE    EXPLORER 

'  It's  only  fair  to  tell  you  that  now  things  have  calmed 
down,  there  are  a  great  many  people  who  don't  believe 
Macinnery's  story.  It  appears  that  the  man's  a  thor- 
ough blackguard,  whom  MacKenzie  loaded  with  bene- 
fits/ 

'  Do  you  still  believe  that  Alec  caused  George's 
death?' 

'  Yes.' 

Lucy  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  resting  her  face  on  her 
hand.  She  seemed  to  reflect  deeply. 

'  And  you  ? '  said  Bobbie. 

She  gave  him  a  long,  earnest  look.  The  colour  came 
to  her  cheeks. 

'  No,'  she  said  firmly. 

'Why  not?'  he  asked. 

'  I  have  no  reason  except  that  I  love  him/ 

'  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  ' 

'  I  don't  know.' 

Bobbie  got  up,  kissed  her  gently,  and  went  out.  She 
did  not  see  him  again,  and  in  a  day  or  two  she  heard 
that  he  had  gone  away. 

Lucy  made  up  her  mind  that  she  must  see  Alec  before 
he  went,  but  a  secret  bashfulness  prevented  her  from 
writing  to  him.  She  was  afraid  that  he  would  refuse, 
and  she  could  not  force  herself  upon  him  if  she  knew 
definitely  that  he  did  not  want  to  see  her.  But  with 
all  her  heart  she  wanted  to  ask  his  pardon.  It  would 
not  be  so  hard  to  continue  with  the  dreary  burden  which 
was  her  life  if  she  knew  that  he  had  a  little  pity  for  her. 
He  could  not  fail  to  forgive  her  when  he  saw  how 
broken  she  was. 

But  the  days  followed  one  another,  and  the  data 


THE    EXPLORER  287 

which  Julia,  radiant  with  her  own  happiness,  had  given 
her  as  that  of  his  departure,  was  approaching. 

Julia,  too,  was  exercised  in  mind.  After  her  conver- 
sation with  Alec  she  could  not  ask  him  to  see  Lucy,  for 
she  knew  what  his  answer  would  be.  No  arguments 
would  move  him.  He  did  not  want  to  give  either  Lucy 
or  himself  the  pain  which  he  foresaw  an  interview  would 
cause,  and  his  wounds  were  too  newly-healed  for  him  to 
run  any  risks.  Julia  resolved  to  take  the  matter  into 
her  own  hands.  Alec  was  starting  next  day,  and  he  had 
promised  to  look  in  towards  the  evening  to  bid  them 
good-bye.  Julia  wrote  a  note  to  Lucy,  asking  her  to 
come  also. 

When  she  told  Dick,  he  was  aghast. 

'  But  it's  a  monstrous  thing  to  do/  he  cried.  '  You 
can't  entrap  the  man  in  that  way.' 

e  I  know  it's  monstrous,'  she  answered.  '  But  thafs 
the  only  advantage  of  being  an  American  in  England, 
that  one  can  do  monstrous  things.  You  look  upon  us 
as  first  cousins  to  the  red  Indians,  and  you  expect  any- 
thing from  us.  In  America  I  have  to  mind  my  p's  and 
q's.  I  mayn't  smoke  in  public,  I  shouldn't  dream  of 
lunching  in  a  restaurant  alone  with  a  man,  and  I'm  the 
most  conventional  person  in  the  most  conventional  soci- 
ety in  the  world ;  but  here,  because  the  English  are  under 
the  delusion  that  New  York  society  is  free  and  easy, 
and  that  American  women  have  no  restraint,  I  can 
kick  over  the  traces,  and  no  one  will  think  it  even 
odd/ 

'But,  my  dear,  it's  a  mere  matter  of  common  de- 
cency/ 

'  There  are  times  when  common  decency  is  out  of 
place,'  she  replied. 


288  THE    EXPLORER 

'  Alec  will  never  forgive  you.' 

'  I  don't  care.  I  think  he  ought  to  see  Lucy,  and  since 
he'd  refuse  if  I  asked  him,  I'm  not  going  to  give  him 
the  chance.' 

'  What  will  you  do  if  he  just  bows  and  walks  off  ?  ' 

'  I  have  his  assurance  that  he'll  behave  like  a  civi- 
lised man,'  she  answered. 

'  I  wash  my  hands  of  it/  said  Dick.  '  I  think  it's 
perfectly  indefensible.' 

f  I  never  said  it  wasn't,'  she  agreed.  '  But  you  see, 
I'm  only  a  poor,  weak  woman,  and  I'm  not  supposed 
to  have  any  sense  of  honour  or  propriety.  You  must 
let  me  take  what  advantage  I  can  of  the  disabilities  of 
the  weaker  sex.' 

Dick  smiled  and  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'  Your  blood  be  upon  your  own  head,'  he  answered. 

'If  I  perish,  I  perish.' 

And  so  it  came  about  that  when  Alec  had  been  ten 
minutes  in  Julia's  cosy  sitting-room,  Lucy  was  an- 
nounced. Julia  went  up  to  her,  greeting  her  effusively 
to  cover  the  awkwardness  of  the  moment.  Alec  grew 
very  pale,  but  made  no  sign  that  he  was  disconcerted. 
Only  Dick  was  troubled.  He  was  obviously  at  a  loss 
for  words,  and  it  was  plain  to  see  that  he  was  out  of 
temper. 

'  I'm  so  glad  you  were  able  to  come/  said  Julia,  in 
order  to  show  Alec  that  she  had  been  expecting  Lucy. 

Lucy  gave  him  a  rapid  glance,  and  the  colour  flew 
to  her  cheeks.  He  was  standing  up  and  came  forward 
with  outstretched  hand. 

'  How  do  you  do  ?  '  he  said.    '  How  is  Lady  Kelsey  ? ' 

'  She's  much  better,  thanks.  We've  been  to  Spa,  you 
know,  for  her  health.' 


THE    EXPLORER  289 

Julia's  heart  beat  quickly.  She  was  much  excited  at 
this  meeting;  and  it  seemed  to  her  strangely  roman- 
tic, a  sign  of  the  civilisation  of  the  times,  that  these 
two  people  with  raging  passions  afire  in  their  hearts, 
should  exchange  the  commonplaces  of  polite  society, 
Alec,  having  recovered  from  his  momentary  confusion 
was  extremely  urbane. 

e  Somebody  told  me  you'd  gone  abroad,'  he  said.  '  Was 
it  you,  Dick?  Dick  is  an  admirable  person,  a  sort  of 
gazetteer  for  the  world  of  fashion.' 

Dick  fussily  brought  forward  a  chair  for  Lucy  to  sit 
in,  and  offered  to  disembarrass  her  of  the  jacket  she  was 
wearing. 

'  You  must  make  my  excuses  for  not  leaving  a  card 
on  Lady  Kelsey  before  going  away/  said  Alec.  '  I've 
been  excessively  busy.' 

'  It  doesn't  matter  at  all,'  Lucy  answered. 

Julia  glanced  at  him.  She  saw  that  he  was  deter- 
mined to  keep  the  conversation  on  the  indifferent  level 
which  it  might  have  occupied  if  Lucy  had  been  nothing 
more  than  an  acquaintance.  There  was  a  bantering 
tone  in  his  voice  which  was  an  effective  barrier  to  all 
feeling.  For  a  moment  she  was  nonplussed. 

*  London  is  an  excellent  place  for  showing  one  of 
how  little  importance  one  is  in  the  world.  One  makes 
a  certain  figure,  and  perhaps  is  tempted  to  think  one- 
self of  some  consequence.  Then  one  goes  away,  and  on 
returning  is  surprised  to  discover  that  nobody  has  ever 
noticed  one's  absence.' 

Lucy  smiled  faintly.  Dick,  recovering  his  good- 
humour,  came  at  once  to  the  rescue. 

'  You're  overmodest,  Alec.  If  you  weren't,  you  might 
be  a  great  man.  Now,  I  make  a  point  of  telling  my 


290  THE    EXPLORER 

friends  that  Pm  indispensable,  and  they  take  me  at 
my  word/ 

*  You  are  a  leaven  of  flippancy  in  the  heavy  dough  of 
British  righteousness/  smiled  Alec. 

'  It  is  true  that  the  wise  man  only  takes  the  unim- 
portant quite  seriously/ 

'  For  it  is  obvious  that  one  needs  more  brains  to  do 
nothing  with  elegance  than  to  be  a  cabinet  minister/ 
said  Alec. 

*  You  pay  me  a  great  compliment,  Alec/  cried  Dick. 
'  You  repeat  to  my  very  face  one  of  my  favourite  ob- 
servations.' 

Julia  looked  at  him  steadily. 

'  Haven't  I  heard  you  say  that  only  the  impossible  is 
worth  doing  ? ' 

'  Good  heavens/  he  cried.  '  I  must  have  been  quoting 
the  headings  of  a  copy-book.' 

Lucy  felt  that  she  must  say  something.  She  had  been 
watching  Alec,  and  her  heart  was  nearly  breaking.  She 
turned  to  Dick. 

'  Are  you  going  down  to  Southampton  ? '  she  asked. 

'  I  am,  indeed/  he  answered.  '  I  shall  hide  my  face 
on  Alec's  shoulder  and  weep  salt  tears.  It  will  be  most 
affecting,  because  in  moments  of  emotion  I  always  burst 
into  epigram.' 

Alec  sprang  to  his  feet.  There  was  a  bitterness  in 
his  face  which  was  in  odd  contrast  with  Dick's  light 
words. 

'  I  loathe  all  solemn  leave-takings/  he  said.  '  I  pre- 
fer to  part  from  people  with  a  nod  or  a  smile,  whether 
I'm  going  for  ever  or  for  a  day  to  Brighton.' 

'  I've  always  assured  you  that  you're  a  monster  of 
inhumanity/  said  Mrs.  Lomas,  laughing  difficultly. 


THE    EXPLORER  291 

He  turned  to  her  with  a  grim  smile. 

'  Dick  has  been  imploring  me  for  twenty  years  to 
take  life  flippantly.  I  have  learnt  at  last  that  things 
are  only  grave  if  you  take  them  gravely,  and  that  is 
desperately  stupid.  It's  so  hard  to  be  serious  without 
being  absurd.  That  is  the  chief  power  of  women,  that 
life  and  death  for  them  are  merely  occasions  for  a 
change  of  costume,  marriage  a  creation  in  white, 
and  the  worship  of  God  an  opportunity  for  a  Paris 
bonnet/ 

Julia  saw  that  he  was  determined  to  keep  the  con- 
versation on  a  level  of  amiable  persiflage,  and  with  her 
lively  sense  of  the  ridiculous  she  could  hardly  repress  a 
smile  at  the  heaviness  of  his  hand.  Through  all  that  he 
said  pierced  the  bitterness  of  his  heart,  and  his  every 
word  was  contradicted  by  the  vehemence  of  his  tortured 
voice.  She  was  determined,  too,  that  the  interview 
which  she  had  brought  about,  uncomfortable  as  it  had 
been  to  all  of  them,  should  not  be  brought  to  nothing; 
characteristically  she  went  straight  to  the  point.  She 
stood  up. 

'  I'm  sure  you  two  have  things  to  say  to  one  another 
that  you  would  like  to  say  alone/ 

She  saw  Alec's  eyes  grow  darker  as  he  saw  himself 
cornered,  but  she  was  implacable. 

'  I  have  some  letters  to  send  off  by  the  American 
mail,  and  I  want  Dick  to  look  over  them  to  see  that 
I've  spelt  honour  with  a  u  and  traveller  with  a  double  I/ 

Neither  Alec  nor  Lucy  answered,  and  the  determined 
little  woman  took  her  husband  firmly  away.  When  they 
were  left  alone,  neither  spoke  for  a  while. 

'  I've  just  realised  that  you  didn't  know  I  was  coming 
to-day/  said  Lucy  at  last.  '  I  had  no  idea  that  you 


292  THE    EXPLORER 

were  being  entrapped.  I  would  never  have  consented 
to  that.' 

'  I'm  very  glad  to  have  an  opportunity  of  saying  good- 
bye to  you,'  he  answered. 

He  preserved  the  conversational  manner  of  polite  so- 
ciety, and  it  seemed  to  Lucy  that  she  would  never  have 
the  strength  to  get  beyond. 

'  I'm  so  glad  that  Dick  and  Julia  are  happily  mar- 
ried. They're  very  much  in  love  with  one  another.' 

'  I  should  have  thought  love  was  the  worst  possible 
foundation  for  marriage,'  he  answered.  '  Love  creates 
illusions,  and  marriage  destroys  them.  True  lovers 
should  never  marry.' 

Again  silence  fell  upon  them,  and  again  Lucy  broke  it. 

'  You're  going  away  to-morrow  ? ' 

'I   am/ 

She  looked  at  him,  but  he  would  not  meet  her  eyes. 
He  went  over  to  the  window  and  looked  out  upon  the 
busy  street. 

'  Are  you  very  glad  to  go  ? ' 

'  You  can't  think  what  a  joy  it  is  to  look  upon  Lon- 
don for  the  last  time.  I  long  for  the  infinite  surface  of 
the  clean  and  comfortable  sea.' 

Lucy  gave  a  stifled  sob.  Alec  started  a  little,  but  he 
did  not  move.  He  still  looked  down  upon  the  stream  of 
cabs  and  'buses,  lit  by  the  misty  autumn  sun. 

'  IB  there  no  one  you  regret  to  leave,  Alec  ?  ' 

It  tore  his  heart  that  she  should  use  his  name.  To 
hear  her  say  it  had  always  been  like  a  caress,  and  the 
word  on  her  lips  brought  back  once  more  the  whole 
agony  of  his  distress;  but  he  would  not  allow  his  emo- 
tion to  be  seen.  He  turned  round  and  faced  her  gravely. 
Now,  for  the  first  time,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  look  at 


THE    EXPLORER  293 

her.  And  while  he  spoke  the  words  he  set  himself  to 
speak,  he  noticed  the  exquisite  oval  of  her  face,  her 
charming,  soft  hair,  and  her  unhappy  eyes. 

'  You  see,  Dick  is  married,  and  so  I'm  much  hest  out 
of  the  way.  When  a  man  takes  a  wife,  his  bachelor 
friends  are  wise  to  depart  from  his  life,  gracefully,  be- 
fore he  shows  them  that  he  needs  their  company  no 
longer.' 

'  And  besides  Dick?' 

'  I  have  few  friends  and  no  relations.  I  can't  flatter 
myself  that  anyone  will  be  much  distressed  at  my  de- 
parture.' 

'You  must  have  no  heart  at  all,'  she  said,  in  a  low, 
hoarse  voice. 

He  clenched  his  teeth.  He  was  bitterly  angry  with 
Julia  because  she  had  exposed  him  to  this  unspeakable 
torture. 

'  If  I  had  I  certainly  should  not  bring  it  to  the  Carl- 
ion  Hotel.  That  sentimental  organ  would  be  surely  out 
of  place  in  such  a  neighbourhood.' 

Lucy  sprang  to  her  feet. 

'  Oh,  why  do  you  treat  me  as  if  we  were  strangers  ? 
How  can  you  be  so  cruel  ? ' 

'  Flippancy  is  often  the  only  refuge  from  an  uncom- 
fortable position,'  he  answered  gravely.  '  We  should 
really  be  much  wiser  merely  to  discuss  the  weather.' 

'  Are  you  angry  because  I  came  ?  ' 

'  That  would  be  very  ungracious  on  my  part.  Perhaps 
it  wasn't  quite  necessary  that  we  should  meet  again/ 

'  You've  been  acting  all  the  time  I've  been  here.  Do 
you  think  I  didn't  see  it  was  unreal,  when  you  talked 
with  such  cynical  indifference  ?  I  know  you  well  enough 
to  tell  when  you're  hiding  your  real  self  behind  a  mask.' 


294  THE   EXPLORER 

'  If  that  is  so,  the  inference  is  obvious  that  I  wish  my 
real  self  to  be  hidden/ 

'  I  would  rather  you  cursed  me  than  treat  me  with 
such  cold  politness.' 

'  I'm  afraid  you're  rather  difficult  to  please,'  he  said. 

Lucy  went  up  to  him  passionately,  but  he  drew  back 
BO  that  she  might  not  touch  him.  Her  outstretched 
hands  dropped  powerless  to  her  side. 

'  Oh,  you're  of  iron,'  she  cried  pitifully.  *  Alec,  Alec, 
I  couldn't  let  you  go  without  seeing  you  once  more. 
Even  you  would  be  satisfied  if  you  knew  what  bitter 
anguish  I've  suffered.  Even  you  would  pity  me.  I 
don't  want  you  to  think  too  badly  of  me.' 

'  Does  it  much  matter  what  I  think  ?  We  shall  be 
five  thousand  miles  apart.' 

'  You  must  utterly  despise  me.' 

He  shook  his  head.  And  now  his  manner  lost  that  af- 
fected calmness  which  had  been  so  cruelly  wounding.  He 
could  not  now  attempt  to  hide  the  pain  that  he  was  suf- 
fering. His  voice  trembled  a  little  with  his  great  emotion. 

'  I  loved  you  far  too  much  to  do  that.  Believe  me, 
with  all  my  heart  I  wish  you  well.  Now  that  the  first 
bitterness  is  past  I  see  that  you  did  the  only  possible 
thing.  I  hope  that  you'll  be  very  happy.  Eobert  Boulger 
is  an  excellent  fellow,  and  I'm  sure  he'll  make  you  a 
much  better  husband  than  I  should  ever  have  done.' 

Lucy  blushed  to  the  roots  of  her  hair.  Her  heart 
sank,  and  she  did  not  seek  to  conceal  her  agitation. 

'  Did  they  tell  you  I  was  going  to  marry  Robert 
Boulger  ? ' 

'Isn't  it  true?' 

'  Oh,  how  cruel  of  them,  how  frightfully  cruel !  I 
became  engaged  to  him,  but  he  gave  me  my  release.  He 


THE    EXPLORER  295 

knew  that  notwithstanding  everything,  I  loved  you  bet- 
ter than  my  life.' 

Alec  looked  down,  but  he  did  not  say  anything.  He 
did  not  move. 

'  Oh,  Alec,  don't  be  utterly  pitiless,'  she  wailed. 
'  Don't  leave  me  without  a  single  word  of  kindness.' 

'  Nothing  is  changed,  Lucy.  You  sent  me  away  be- 
cause I  caused  your  brother's  death/ 

She  stood  before  him,  her  hands  behind  her  back, 
and  they  looked  into  one  another's  eyes.  Her  words  were 
steady  and  quiet.  It  seemed  to  give  her  an  infinite  re- 
lief to  say  them. 

'  I  hated  you  then,  and  yet  I  couldn't  crush  the  love 
that  was  in  my  heart.  And  it's  because  I  was  fright- 
ened of  myself  that  I  told  Bobbie  I'd  marry  him.  But 
I  couldn't.  I  was  horrified  because  I  cared  for  you  still. 
It  seemed  such  odious  treachery  to  George,  and  yet 
love  burnt  up  my  heart.  I  used  to  try  and  drive  you 
away  from  my  thoughts,  but  every  word  you  had  ever 
said  came  back  to  me.  Don't  you  remember,  you  told 
me  that  everything  you  did  was  for  my  sake?  Those 
words  hammered  away  on  my  heart  as  though  it  were  an 
anvil.  I  struggled  not  to  believe  them,  I  said  to  myself 
that  you  had  sacrificed  George,  coldly,  callously,  pru- 
dently, but  my  love  told  me  it  wasn't  true.  Your  whole 
life  stood  on  one  side  and  only  this  hateful  story  on  the 
other.  You  couldn't  have  grown  into  a  different  man  in 
one  single  instant.  I've  learnt  to  know  you  better  dur- 
ing these  three  months  of  utter  misery,  and  I'm 
ashamed  of  what  I  did.' 

'  Ashamed  ? ' 

'  I  came  here  to-day  to  tell  you  that  I  don't  under- 
stand the  reason  of  what  you  did;  but  I  don't  want  to 


296  THE    EXPLORER 

understand.  I  believe  in  you  now  with  all  my  strength. 
I  believe  in  you  as  better  women  than  I  believe  in  God. 
I  know  that  whatever  you  did  was  right  and  just — be- 
cause you  did  it.' 

Alec  looked  at  her  for  a  moment.  Then  he  held  out 
his  hand. 

'  Thank  God/  he  said.     '  I'm  so  grateful  to  you.' 

'  Have  you  nothing  more  to  say  to  me  than  that  ?  ' 

'  You  see,  if  s  come  too  late.  Nothing  much  mat- 
ters now,  for  to-morrow  I  go  away  for  ever.' 

'  But  you'll  come  back.' 

He  gave  a  short,  scornful  laugh. 

'  They  were  so  glad  to  give  me  that  job  on  the 
Congo  because  no  one  else  would  take  it.  I'm  going  to 
a  part  of  Africa  from  which  Europeans  seldom  return.' 

'  Oh,  that's  too  horrible,'  she  cried.  (  Don't  go,  dear- 
est; I  can't  bear  it.' 

'  I  must  now.  Everything  is  settled,  and  there  can 
be  no  drawing  back.' 

She  let  go  hopelessly  of  his  hand. 

'  Don't  you  care  for  me  any  more  ?  '  she  whispered. 

He  looked  at  her,  but  he  did  not  answer.  She  turned 
away,  and  sinking  into  a  chair,  began  to  cry. 

'  Don't,  Lucy,'  he  said,  his  voice  breaking  suddenly. 
'  Don't  make  it  harder.' 

'  Oh,  Alec,  Alec,  don't  you  see  how  much  I  love  you.' 

He  leaned  over  her  and  gently  stroked  her  hair. 

'  Be  brave,  darling/  he  whispered. 

She  looked  up  passionately,  seizing  both  his  hands. 

'  I  can't  live  without  you.  I've  suffered  too  much. 
If  you  cared  for  me  at  all,  you'd  stay.' 

'  Though  I  love  you  with  all  my  soul,  I  can't  do  other- 
wise now  than  go.' 


THE    EXPLORER  297 

'  Then  take  m«  with  you/  she  cried  eagerly.  '  Let  me 
come  too/ 

'  You ! ' 

'  You  don't  know  what  I  can  do.  With  you  to  help 
me  I  can  be  very  brave.  Let  me  come,  Alec.' 

'  It's  impossible.    You  don't  know  what  you  ask/ 

'  Then  let  me  wait  for  you.  Let  me  wait  till  you 
come  back.' 

'  And  if  I  never  come  back? ' 

'  I  will  wait  for  you  still.' 

He  placed  his  hands  on  her  shoulders  and  looked  into 
her  eyes,  as  though  he  were  striving  to  see  into  the 
depths  of  her  soul.  She  felt  very  weak.  She  could 
scarcely  see  him  through  her  tears,  but  she  tried  to 
smile.  Then  without  a  word  he  slipped  his  arms  around 
her.  Sobbing  in  the  ecstasy  of  her  happiness,  she  let 
Jier  head  fall  on  his  shoulder. 

'  You  will  have  the  courage  to  wait  ? '  he  said. 

'  I  know  you  love  me,  and  I  trust  you/ 

'  Then  have  no  fear ;  I  will  come  back.  My  journey 
was  only  dangerous  because  I  wanted  to  die.  I  want  to 
live  now,  and  I  shall  live/ 

'  Oh,  Alec,  Alec,  I'm  so  glad  you  love  me/ 

Outside  in  the  street  the  bells  of  the  motor  'buses 
tinkled  noisily,  and  there  was  an  incessant  roar  of  the 
traffic  that  rumbled  heavily  over  the  wooden  pavements. 
There  was  a  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs,  and  the  blowing  of 
horns ;  the  electric  broughams  whizzed  past  with  an  odd, 
metallic  whirr. 

THE     END 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRj» 


This 


on  the  last  date  stamped  t 


JAN  12  1976 


Di 


rm  L9-Series  444 


A     000030477     4 


